Probably saw that coming
by StumpyTPDimples
Summary: The aftermath of the Sokovia attack leaves two souls searching for strength from one another.
1. Chapter 1

Working through requests! Will upload them as much as possible and as evenly as possible!

This story was requested by one of my favourite people on here, Niom Lamboise! Love the idea, been thinking of it a while, and now I guess I'll give it a go!

10 chapters planned, hope you enjoy! :)

Disclaimer! Don't own anything! Literally! Even the idea is Niom Lamboise's and not mine! :o I AM JUST THE WRITING MONKEY! :3

* * *

 _The quinjet was coming for him._

 _It was coming for him, guns firing, tearing up the ground as the bullets collided with the concrete road. He stared it down for a moment, accepting his fate._

 _This is how heroes died. Protecting civilians, and what better civilian to save than a child? This is how heroes died. In a blaze of glory, trying to save the world. This is how Clint Barton died, and he was perfectly fine with that._

 _He clutched to little boy to his chest and turned his back to jet, at least he could shield the kid. Hopefully one of the other Avengers will get him to a boat when they find Clint, get him to his mother, give him a chance._

 _The bullets were getting closer, and time seemed to be moving in slow motion. He screwed his eyes shut, in anticipation of the blows that were about to come._

 _The bullets never came though. The searing hot pain he was so accustomed to, the sensation of tissue and muscle being tore apart, it never met his body._

 _There was some wush sound, something had over turned? Did Ultron's attack completely and totally miss?_

 _But the bullets never came. The shooting sound stopped. He had resigned himself to death, but death just refused to take him once again._

 _Looking up from his crouched position, he checked the kid, convinced if he didn't get hit, then the bullets must have hit the little boy in his arms instead._

 _But nothing.._

 _When he looked to the other side of him though, his heart stopped, he saw something he wouldn't have ever bet he would._

 _Standing there, bullet riddled, unsteady as anything on his feet, the kid. Pietro._

 _Pietro had saved him.._

 _His eyes went a little wide and shock went through his body, this wasn't happening.. This can't be happening.. The guy didn't do this, he didn't save Barton's life, he hated the archer for Christ's sake!_

 _His strained voice reached Clint's ears though, and it made the situation all too real._

 _"You didn't see that coming..?"_

* * *

He snapped his eyes open with a gasp, sitting bolt upright in his bed as he tried calm his breathing down.

 _Not again.._

He groaned a little in annoyance and fell back down when he realised it was just another nightmare, his arm moving to cover his eyes.

This was becoming a nightly occurrence for Clint Barton.

It had been two weeks since the Ultron attack, a whole fourteen days, and he still couldn't get a proper nights sleep.

The kid was just in his head way too much.

That day, he was supposed to protect him and his sister. Why? Well because they were dragged into the fight. They really didn't choose, they just went along with it because they didn't want Ultron destroying the planet, didn't want their home town left completely defenceless. So he made it his mission to protect them, and he couldn't do it.

It had been the first mission in a long time he failed. And he failed in the worst possible way..

He sighed roughly and wiped the sweat from his forehead, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up then. He was still a little wobbly. His side had taken a bad hit in the fight and they had to graft some skin back onto it to cover the wound. He knew that fake stuff they patched him up with wouldn't last! That, and, the lack of sleep. They were keeping him in the infirmary as much as possible because he just wasn't sleeping right, and they couldn't send him home like that. Sometimes during the day he'd get too bored though, so he'd wander the SHIELD base before some terror stricken nurse would come find him. He had begun to wonder if Natasha threatened them to keep him in the place until he was fully healed!

He put on the slippers by his bed and a hoodie before leaving his room, going to the one place that calmed him each and every time he had that nightmare.

They were lucky. They were really lucky. To have such good health and such a good standing after a god damn killer robot attack was a miracle!

When they got onto the ship that would cart them to the safety of the hellicarrier, Clint had fallen unconscious. The wound to his side, accompanied by the fight they were just put through, the bad knocks he took, and the adrenaline completely leaving his system, had him knocked out in a hospital bed for a week. He woke that day in a complete panic, it took Steve and Natasha easily a half hour to calm him down because the memories of letting Pietro die were just too strong for him.

There was only one thing that managed to calm him down.

They put him in a wheelchair that day and brought him to Pietro's body.

Only, it wasn't what he expected to find..

"You have the nightmares too, Agent Barton?" The soft voice was coming from Wanda Maximoff, curled up in a chair half asleep. It was 4am, she hadn't left this place in days now. The only times she would was when Natasha would train her in fighting, just to get a distraction.

He stopped getting shocked by her knowing he was here. She never faced the door, the chair always faced the bed. He realised the second or third time that she knew he was there because she could, of course, sense his thoughts.

"Clint." He corrected, they were on better terms now. At the start he was iffy around her, he was timid and reserved, because her brother, her twin, the single most important person in her life, had taken a billion bullets for him, and he just couldn't be alright around her when he knew that.

It changed though when they learned things should be fine. When they were told things were going to be alright he started talking more easily around her, coming around that little bit more often to the room, slowly becoming good friends with the woman.

He smiled a little sadly at the figure in the bed, walking over to place a hand gently on the guys forehead, his nightly ritual to make sure he was actually there, that it wasn't just a dream.

He was pale, paler than usual at least. He still had an oxygen mask over his face, but his increased metabolism and healing abilities meant that, even after only two weeks, the bullet wounds were basically just scars now. He was still unconscious, should wake up soon hopefully. But none of that mattered.

All that mattered was that Pietro Maximoff was still here. He was still a living, breathing, little bastard.

Whatever experiments were done on the kid back in the Hydra base were the only reasons he was here now. There was no pulse though, that's what confused Clint when they tried tell him that he survived, it's what made him panic and refuse to believe Steve and Natasha. He checked for a pulse when Pietro got hit, he made sure of it before he gave up hope. Maybe he missed it, maybe it was weak and he couldn't tell, maybe his shock may have been a little too much to be the one to tell that the kid was dead.

Luckily, SHIELD medical staff are a little more trained than he is. So, they could tell right away he was still alive and rushed him to surgery right along side the archer. Some odd poetic beauty there. Both of their lives were being saved, side by side, even though both seemed to be destined to die side by side that day.

"Unfortunately so." He sighed after a moment, realising he was lost in his thoughts. He pulled up his usual chair, right next to Wanda's, and took his spot by Pietro's bedside. "Kid's done a real number on me.."

"I know the feeling." She replied through a weak chuckle, and he couldn't help but smile.

She was trying to be ok. Trying to get over the shock of nearly losing her brother, of actually losing her brother. He doesn't care what they say or how many times they try convince him otherwise, Pietro was definitely dead in his arms. But, the past few nights, she's seemed better. Seemed to be talking more, seemed to be joking a little as best she could.

The previous day, when they were told that Pietro will be fine and should have woken by now, well that was the most Clint has seen her smile in the longest time.

The two of them had managed to sneak their way into his heart, he had to admit. They seemed a little too lost, a little too vulnerable. He never had this urge to protect people, he was used to being around people who actually protected him.

 _Damn.._

 _Shh Clint.. Don't think your next thought_

 _He did protect you.._

 _Dammit, I said shh!_

He had to calm himself, shake the thought from his head, because it still hurt too much.

He looked to Wanda when she let out a yawn, and he had to give a little chuckle.

"When was the last time you slept?" He asked softly, reaching over to pull the blanket she had over her up to her shoulders.

She looked like hell. Black bags under her eyes, dishevelled hair, and a look in her eyes that told him her reply was definitely a lie.

"A few hours ago." She shrugged, her eyes never leaving her brothers face. They were both waiting for the same thing. He knew that.

They were both waiting for those eyes to open.

But, she'd end up next to her brother in a different sort of sense if she continued on the way she was.

So, while she was distracted, the only time he knew she wasn't secretly reading his thoughts, he took out his phone and sent a text to Natasha, just asking her to take the kid for a shower, food and rest. The usual drill when they manage to tear her away from the chair. It was approaching 4:30. Nat would definitely be up, training for her starts at 5am!

He got no reply, but about ten minutes a soft knock on the already open door made him grin. He could always trust Natasha..

"I'm heading for a training session." She started, and both himself and Wanda turned to look at her. He gave his partner a grin, that would always get Wanda out! "You ready to try some basic evasion, Maximoff?"

Clint looked to Wanda to see if she'd do it. She was always too polite to turn Natasha down, he knew that, Romanoff knew that. But since she heard that Pietro would wake soon, should be awake now, she was by his side more than ever incase he needed her.

Clint noticed this in her eyes. He didn't have to have the powers she possess to know what turmoil was going on in her mind. It was the same battle he had each time someone would try pull him from Natasha's bedside after a bad mission. That argument in yourself that says you have to be there for your partner, for your family, no matter what.

"I'll be here." He whispered to her, a soft smile on his face. She looked to him in slight shock, he guessed she wasn't expecting him to know what her fear was. She wasn't the only one who was good at this sort of stuff! "He won't be alone, and I'll message if he wakes. Go relax for a while."

It took her another moment, but Clint and Natasha let her take all the time she needed. He grinned when she finally nodded, taking to her feet then and stretching out her stiff muscles.

"Thank you, Clint." Wanda said with a little smile, going over to kiss her brothers cheek before doing the same with Clint.

He was a little shocked with the contact. Not because he was afraid of kisses or anything like that, but because it was the first bit of affection she'd shown anyone, the first time she'd called him Clint. The first time she trusted him. And that just made his day a little bit!

He watched the kid walk past Natasha, his partner simply sending him a smile and a wink before leaving.

He smiled a little more to himself and turned back to look at Pietro's still form. That little wink was her way of letting him know she'll look after Wanda. She had taken a liking to her through training, Clint knew that simply because if Natasha doesn't like you then you wouldn't survive the first training session, not let alone go back for multiple more afterwards.

Hell, first time they trained together, he nearly took a head shot. She perfectly intended on killing him that day! He guessed dodging the head shot was his was of showing her that he was a worthy training partner.

 _Almost like Vision lifting Thor's hammer.._

 _Damn that guy.._

One day, one day soon, Clint will figure out how Thor does it! No such thing as magic! Sure, he knows some magic tricks from the circus days, but those days thought him that everything 'magic' is just that; tricks!

But, as he watched Pietro in the bed infront of him, a thoughtful look spread across his face. Their powers weren't a trick. They may be experiments, sure, like Rogers was, but this was different. He still couldn't figure Wanda out, and it hurt his head to try! She could move things, what's the word he's looking for.. Telekinetic..? Teleportly..? Telepathically, something like that! She could move things with her mind! She could get inside peoples minds and make them see their worst fears. She could manipulate and alter reality. That, was magic!

And Pietro? A little more normal to Barton's mind. He had increased metabolism and crazy healing factors, almost like Steve on the super juice. He could run faster than a bullet, towards the speed of sound. Not just yet, he's still learning his powers, but the document on their research told them that he has the potential to get up to that sort of speed, and maybe even pass it one day.

A slight laugh rippled from Clint's chest, though none of it was funny, one thought just struck home so bad that it nearly crushed him. So he had to laugh or cry!

 _Why couldn't you have learned to out run bullets sooner..? Then maybe my heart would be fine right about now.. Punk.._

He didn't move for the longest time. He couldn't sure, he promised Wanda he wouldn't, and if he was perfectly honest with himself, he didn't actually want to. He found himself, about three hours into his watch, tracing random spirals on the back of the kids hand, watching his peaceful face for any signs of waking.

It was second nature to him, sitting by hospital beds. Nat was human, Coulson was human, he was human. So, unlike the God of Thunder or the Star Spangled Man With a Plan, bullets ususally sent them to hospital for quite some time!

But Pietro? Clint couldn't figure out why he was so protective of him, so upset over the state he was in. He had fought this guy, he hated him so much for a while. Sure, in the end, they came through for the Avengers, but why the hell was his heart beating so uncomfortably every time he thought about those bullets ripping through his chest..?

 _Long week, Clint.._

He told himself, shaking his head everytime he thought about it.

What other reason could there be..?

His hand clenched. That was the first sign, at nearly 2pm, that the kid was finally starting to come around. Barton took his hand and held it, and the grip was unbearably tight. His way of judging pain levels, because generally, the more pain a person was in, the harder they'd squeeze.

His head snapped to the heart monitor by the bed side when it started going ninety to the dozen, Pietro's chest rising and falling too quick for Clint's liking in the process. He could hear nurses rush to the door, didn't have to look around to know it was them, but he waved them off with his free hand. If he could handle Nat when she panics awake, he can definitely handle Pietro.

Slowly, Clint stood up to stand over the kid, his free hand gently resting on his chest while his other still had a gentle grip on Maximoff's hand. He put on his serious face, his mission face, and hovered over the guy slightly so that when he did decide to open his eyes he'd see a familiar face.

"Pietro.. Relax." He said softly, though it held a commanding edge in order to break through whatever fog was trying to be lifted. "You're back at a SHIELD base. Everything fine, everyone's fine. The fight is over, you got hit bad, but we got you back in time. Slow your breathing for me."

He had to repeat himself three more times, the second time his face fell into one of worry, because the sound the kid was making were just so pain filled it killed him a little.

"Everything's fine.." He whispered for the third time, and he had to smile when he was finally greeted with the kids eyes. He was still in a panic, still most definitely leaving a bruise on Clint's entire hand, but he was awake. "You gave us one hell of a scare, but everyone's fine."

Clint stayed still, his hand still on Pietro's chest to try calm his breathing down. A useful trick that was used on him way too many times! Dictate their breathing when they get too erratic by actually forcing them to breathe normal.

His eyes were glassy, dark, but with each passing second, another bit of the guy slowly came back to being. Clint just waited, whispering his little message whenever it looked like he was about to panic again.

He felt and odd pang of hurt when Pietro finally spoke his first word in two long weeks.

"Wanda..?" It was weak, it was strained, it was behind an oxygen mask, but Clint caught it and gave him a sad smile.

 _The kid is lying here bullet ridden and he's still only worried about his sister, about his partner.._

"She's fine.." He replied softly, finally moving his hand from his chest when his breathing calmed enough. Though he couldn't bring himself to release Pietro's hand. "She never left your side. Romanoff finally dragged her away to rest up a little bit."

"You..?" He was a little stronger asking that, his eyes scanning Clint like it was the first time he saw the archer.

Barton's eyebrows hit the roof with surprise. He was worried about Clint..? Seriously?

A nurse came over to replace Pietro's oxygen mask with a nose plug instead, while Barton tried his best to recover from the shock of what was just asked.

He was lying near death, he actually did die at one point, and instead of asking what happened or if he'd be ok, he was making sure Clint of all people was ok. The panic flaring up in Pietro's eyes told Clint he should probably answer before another attack hits the kids chest.

"I'm fine." He replied with a small smile, giving his hand a little squeeze to reinforce the fact.

 _I'm not fine.. You nearly killed me with worry you little bastard.._ His mind screamed at him, not the time to say such things though.

"Scared your sister was going to kill me for letting you get hurt though." He managed to chuckle out, feeling a little uncomfortable under Pietro's gaze.

Rather than calming him like Barton had hoped, it seemed to bring another bout of panic to the speedster.

 _Shit.._

"I'm sorry..I just moved.." He whispered quickly, his eyes wide as they scanned the room nervously. "I just.. You were.. And I couldn't let you.. And.."

"Hey hey!" Clint said quickly, cursing himself for upsetting the guy. He placed his free hand on his cheek to force their eyes to meet, making sure his held some confidence rather than the upset he definitely felt right now. "Don't you be sorry. You saved my life! I'm here because of you, I wouldn't have survived all those bullets like you did!"

Pietro's eyes didn't leave Clint's for the longest time, and Barton knew to stay quiet and unmoving, like dealing with a wounded animal, give them the time to come to terms with whatever was going on in their lives.

But Barton meant those words. The only reason he was by this kids bed right now was because he took the hit. The only reason he was by this bed, and not lying six feet under in the ground somewhere in Iowa, was because he took the bullets that were destined to be Clint's.

And damn, if that wasn't enough to warrant his nightmares, he didn't know what was.

The only time Barton started to move was when Maximoff's eyes slowly starting slipping closed. The kid was fighting off sleep, Clint could tell that much, but whatever drugs they were feeding in through the IV were making it near impossible. Only way he'd sleep, Clint figured, was if he knew he was safe. Clint was the exact same.

"Rest up." He whispered, patting the kids cheek gently before moving to sit on his seat again. Pietro's eyes lazily followed Clint, then finally locked onto their joined hands. _Shit.._ "You and Wanda are coming home with me, where I can keep an eye on you.. Where I can keep you safe.."

Their eyes locked one more time, and lord help him Clint couldn't look away. He just offered the kid a smile and nodded in response to whatever unasked, unsure question was in his mind.

"Rest.." He whispered, and Pietro's eyes finally slipped closed. "I've got first watch.."

Letting the two of them stay with him was the least he could do.

He had to start paying off this unpayble debt he now owed the guy in the bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Ok! Now that the main story's done, onto requests again!

Have three or four or 25, I can't remember! But I'll get through them! :)

Reviewers!;

Niom Lamboise; I wouldn't forget, my dear! I was looking forward to writing this one, and now that the other story is done, I can fully focus on it! I'm sorry for not being able to update it sooner! :)

Jewea19; That's a very high compliment from you, thank you so much! :o I'm glad you enjoyed it! :) I didn't update this as quickly as I normally would, for the simple fact I had another story to finish first, but now it should be updated every couple of days if I get my arse in gear and get writing! Hope you enjoy :)

Bri; Old McBarton's farm! I love it! I'm making a song now, dammit! There's more, yes! Sorry it took longer than usual to update, solely focused on this now! About 10 chapters planned, as far as I remember! Hope you enjoy :)

orange-yarn; Hello my friend! I believe I know that name! Welcome anyway! I'm glad you liked the chapter, and I'm sorry for not updating sooner! Had to finish my other story first and foremost, but like I said above, solely focused on this now :) Enjoy!

Layne; I'm glad you liked it, and over joyed that I'm managing to help you with your own writing! First attempt at this pairing, first attempt at any male pairing actually, so you'll have to bare with me! :P Enjoy! :)

TortoisetheStoryteller; I like him living too! So, he shall live! Glad you enjoyed it :)

Disclaimer; I disclaim everything!

* * *

"Nope."

"Pietro.."

"Nope."

"Pietro!"

"Nope!"

"Stop being a baby and go wake him!"

"You're better at it!"

"You can run away!"

"You can move the knife!"

"You really want to risk your sister getting stabbed!?"

Stalemate.. This always happened..

Pietro scowled at his sister and cracked his neck, holding his hand out towards her then with his opposite on held in a fist ontop of it. Without any need for words, or any need for mind reading, she mimicked his behaviour. He let out a curse when she chose rock, he so stupidly chose sizzors!

"Fine!" He growled, throwing his arms in the air in defeat while Wanda just fell back onto the sofa with a laugh. "My death will be on your head!"

"If a groggy assassin can get the jump of you, then you deserve it!" Wanda countered as he walked away, and he just knew she was smirking.

She always won this argument.

He didn't know why he still tried each morning!

He sighed to himself and started up the creaky old stairs, reminding himself halfway up he said he'd fix the top step before someone managed to trip down it. Again.

It was his home now, it was the least he could do.

Six months they've been here now. At first, he was a little iffy about coming to a farm. But the old man insisted that himself and Wanda come live with him. A farm house was not expected. Pietro was expecting grimy old apartment that was never looked after. He just struck the speedster as that kind of carefree guy, someone who wouldn't ever think of owning a house not let alone one in the middle of no where. Iowa, that's where Natasha told them they were going as she flew the jet.

A battle with aliens. That's what she said made him want the solitude. Himself and Wanda were still locked away from the world at that time, so they only heard about it after the fight in Sokovia. It seemed brutal, and from what information was available, and what information the other Avengers were willing to give, Barton was the main target. His mind was taken over, he went onto their side against his will, and afterwards he struggled too much to just go right back to normal life. So, he sold his apartment in New York, begged Stark for a little help, and bought an off the radar farm house.

When Pietro woke, it was only a week recovery then he was out of the SHIELD infirmary. It was Barton that took longer. Even though his injuries weren't as severe, the guy was the most human of any of them, so the blow to his side was a little too much to have just a quick stay in hospital. Pietro was healed, scarred, and running around the training grounds two weeks before Barton was, then they were here.

He was enjoying it. Even this part of their daily routine. It felt comfortable, felt relaxed. Felt like he and Wanda finally had a home.

He didn't knock, he learned that from the first day he had to wake Barton up. He panicked a little, looking back on it now he can admit that. When they wanted to wake him for some breakfast, it was their first day after all so Wanda put out a big spread, Pietro knocked. There was no answer. He knocked harder, again there was nothing. So he went into the room, seeing Clint spread out on his stomach and not answering Pietro's calls. He kept calling, nearly shouting, until he just went over to the bed ans shook him awake. He jumped, swinging a knife he had gripped in his hand with these eyes that Pietro wished he'd never see again. When things finally calmed down, when the two of them got their breaths back after a bit of a grapple, Barton reached over and put something in his ears from the bedside cabinet. They never knew he was deaf, and it was then Pietro realised that they knew nothing about this man that so willingly took him into their home, and he knew absolutely nothing about them either.

That was the only day he swung at Pietro with a knife. He kept apologising to him throughout the day, saying it was just a bad mix of circumstances. Clint not being used to people in his house, being on edge after the battle, and Pietro being behind him rather than beside him so he couldn't see the kid all that well. He still slept with the knife under his pillow, they knew that, but Pietro was alot more careful when waking him in the morning.

This morning was going to be difficult. He could tell the second he walked into the room to see Clint tossing and turning on the bed.

Nightmares.

They kept Barton up some nights. He'd hear the archer wandering the house at all hours of the night, cleaning around the house, making some food, one night he even heard the lawn mower start up at 4am and looked out to see Barton tending to the garden. Pietro didn't get them nearly as much, only the odd one, but that's because he doesn't let his mind go there. Wanda informed him one night while they were relaxing that taking a peek into Barton's mind was a mine field. He's had too much trauma in his past, so Pietro knew that it was probably a one in a million chance that this nightmare was about anything that happened during the Ultron attack.

It upset Pietro knowing that. It honestly broke his heart knowing that the events of the past still hurt, even so long after they took place. It hurt knowing that Pietro had the capability of dispelling memories at the drop of a hat so they couldn't bother him anymore, and yet the archer was just left suffering. Clint was too human, and it sometimes scared him thinking of that.

"Ok Barton.." Pietro sighed, carefully going over to kneel down beside the archer. His brow was creased and he had a frown was plastered across his sleeping face.

It didn't suit him, frowning, looking sad or in pain. Over the past six months they've seen the real Clint Barton, the joking and kind Clint Barton, the actual person, and not just the SHIELD agent and Avenger archer. This side didn't suit his features, Pietro realised. Smiling really did.

"Don't stab me.." He whispered with a slight pout, carefully trying to place a hearing aid back into the archers ear so he would hear him. It was difficult to do, so that's why he only did it when Barton would have nightmares, because that's when the attacks usually happened!

Sure enough, when one little touch came, Barton swung his arm out from under the pillow. If he wasn't genetically enhanced, Pietro would have a slash across his face right now, that's how quick Barton's attack was. But he thankfully was, so he avoided the attack and had Clint flipped onto his back in no time.

During training and sparring, this was impossible. Pietro was fast, but he wasn't as good a fighter as the trained assassin. So he could never get Clint pinned down, it was always the opposite. Right now though, Hawkeye wasn't here. Right now, a scared and protective Clint was here. So Pietro pinned his arms to his side, the speedster's hands pinning down the archer's shoulders as firmly as he could as the guy trashed and cursed beneath him.

Aids weren't in, so Pietro had to get close so Clint could read his lips. Their faces were close, too close for comfort on a normal day, but he didn't care right now, he had to calm Clint down before he hurt the two of them.

"You're Clint Barton." He started loudly, his face remaining calm so his lips could be read clearly. It was a trick Barton told him about one night, one of the nights neither of them could sleep so they sat out in the sitting room with a couple of beers. You keep calm, he'll keep calm. Pull him back from the nightmares by reminding him he's safe and there's nothing going on. It worked wonders, and Pietro had gotten the habit of what tone to use and what facial expressions help most. "You're an Avenger, you're on your farm house in Iowa. You saved me and Wanda, we're the only ones here with you. Relax."

The waiting was the worst. Those horrible few minutes where the fear and tears would remain in Clint's eyes. Those heart wrenching moments when he'd mutter about being taken, scream for them to just kill him already. It took everything Pietro had each time not to just pull the archer in for a hug and let him talk about everything, spill everything to him about what plagues his mind. He knew it was wrong to think like that, but he couldn't help it. He was helping by keeping him pinned, keeping him from hurting anyone, that's all that mattered.

They came back though. Those eyes that held such sparkle, those eyes that would light up when they'd tell mission stories to the twins at night. They always returned, they always sparked back to life and made Pietro's heart skip a beat.

"Hearing..?" Barton eventually rasped out, after his eyes became a little clearer, after his whole body sank into the mattress, after Pietro's heart was allowed beat again.

Maximoff smiled and nodded, that was Barton's way of letting him know it was ok to let him up. They never spoke of the nightmares, never spoke of these little moments, never spoke about how naturally it came to them or how not-so-weird Pietro being ontop of him was.

They just got off the bed, Clint put his aids in and went to get changed, and Pietro went out to finish making breakfast.

It was routine, it was some sort of ritual they had to go through during the bad times to transition to the alright times.

It was one of the many things Pietro didn't seem to mind doing for the archer.

He couldn't place these things. He couldn't place these feelings, this protective nature that over took him. He never held it before, not even with Wanda.

It was unsettling him.

* * *

"Nope."

"Clint.."

"Nope."

"Clint!"

"Nope!"

"Pietro?"

He looked to her sister with an amused smile when she said his name instead of the archers, she was sitting next to him with a slight pout. That meant that he could either help her out or he'd get a smack across the head!

"Stop being a baby, old man." Pietro laughed, looking across the table to Clint, the older gentleman cradling a mug of coffee in his hands. He just shook his head at the speedster.

"You don't know Natasha Romanoff like I do." Clint sighed, rubbing some of the last bits of sleep from his eyes. "If I ask her for help.."

"It would be better than us." Wanda said softly, and Pietro had to glance down at his hand when he felt her hand resting on it. She could probably tell he was about to swing at Barton for annoying them!

He took a breath before speaking to the archer. "You're wearing yourself out here. If we can go to hers or to Stark's it would be better for you.."

"I don't need help!" Clint cut in with a growl, shoving his food and coffee away to stand from the table, his eyes drilling holes into the two twins.

This was a topic Wanda broached to Pietro a few days ago. She realised that Clint was wearing himself out, pure and simple. When he took a tumble down the stairs the other day, Wanda had begun to worry. He was running around the house doing everything, cooking, cleaning, fixing up things that Pietro was sure didn't need to be fixed. He was keeping himself occupied, Wanda concluded. Trying not to let himself heal by instead running himself mad. The past few days Pietro was trying to convince her she was just being a worry wart, that they knew nothing about Barton and this might just be what he does.

But, when Pietro pinned him this morning, when he realised how little fight and strength the archer held, when he saw the bags under his eyes after being so close and getting a proper look at them, he knew that she may be onto something.

So, he didn't object when she suggested seeing if he'd call Natasha. He didn't object when she suggested talking to him about it, seeing if he could maybe just relax for a few days to build up his energy levels again.

But, it seemed like Clint was hell bent on objecting. And it pissed Pietro off. All they were trying to do was make sure the guy didn't kill himself!

"I'm going out to shoot." Barton sighed barely a breath after his little snap at the pair. The look Pietro saw cross over his eyes made him think that Clint knew it was a mistake to.

Before the twins could say anything, Clint was gone out of the kitchen door. The pair left in the room let out a sigh and stayed silent for a moment.

"We tried.." Wanda said softly, her hand still lying ontop of Pietro's. He hated when she read his mind, when she read what he was feeling as well as thinking. Because sometimes she knew before he even did. She knew then that he felt regret for not being able to convince him, and that was a good two minutes before the emotion even surfaced for Pietro to realise.

"You call Natasha." Pietro said after a moment or two, his voice stern. Like hell he was just going to sit by and let Barton kill himself. He stood up and looked down at the confused face of his sister. "Get her out here as soon as she can. If he won't go to Stark's, at least we will. Give him space to relax then try living with him again."

She smiled a smile Pietro hadn't seen in a while, one that would always say "I like the way you think!". There was no need for those kinds of smiles, they'd only come out during fighting with the proctors, or in the fight with Ultron. It was her mission smile, and this was a mission in itself.

"Good thing I called her last night and she's only twenty minutes out.."

Oh he really loved his sister sometimes!

He returned the smile and gave her forehead a little kiss before leaving the house. He always waited until outside the house to run. He tried inside the house once, and the place nearly blew over! So he was very quickly forced to promise Barton he wouldn't run indoors again!

Once outside, he ran his way over to the barn, it was set up as a gym by the archer. State of the art, he assumed Mr. Stark had a say in the design and funding of it. His suspicions were confirmed one day when he saw a 'Stark approved' sticker on the side of one of the weight machines. He had been in here a lot. Clint was teaching him hand to hand combat since they were healed enough to, and Barton seemed hell bent on it. Pietro was fast, but he could admit that he was sloppy when it came to fighting. The one lucky punch he laid on Captain America had him celebrating for a week! It was why his partner was telekinetic. She could destroy the enemies, he could knock their asses over so fast that it would knock them out.

Don't misunderstand! He was taught basic life saving fighting while with Hydra, but Barton wanted to teach him SHIELD style. He didn't really need it.

Still though, a little training was never a bad thing!

He could hear a thump, a solid whack, but not of arrows. He was used to that sound, but Barton probably only arrived to the place, so he wouldn't be shooting yet. It was a bit of a walk, and he only left a little before Pietro did, so no doubt he managed to catch up to the old man.

He poked his head in the door of the barn and raised an eyebrow at the sight.

All the times the archer went off to be alone, he said he was shooting. So the twins always left him alone, always left him to his own form of training. But this wasn't shooting, this was some pretty intense punch bag training.

He should have only been here maybe a minute before Pietro, but Clint already had his shirt off, a clear sheen of sweat over his body as he went after the bag with an aggression Pietro has never seen, not even in combat.

Stress relief was the only thing that could spring to Pietro's mind. He hasn't been on a mission or Avengers assignment in over seven months now. If the stories he heard about him and Natasha were true, from both himself and the other members of the Avengers, then he was always doing something. Even when he wasn't actually on missions, he was on missions. So sitting still for so long must be driving the guy insane.

Never one for respecting personal space, Pietro walked into the barn and over to a weight machine by the punch bag. He knew the archer sensed him, even with his back to the door, because once he stepped a foot into the barn, Clint paused and tensed for maybe only a second. Enough for Pietro to notice though.

He just sat on the end of the lifting bench, watching as white knuckles laid into the solid bag. No tape, no gloves, just his bare hands. It must hurt. Pietro only ever used the thing with some tape on his hands, Clint always insists, and even that left his knuckles red for hours. He could only imagine the pain the archer was putting himself through right now.

"Fuck it.." Clint pretty much yelled after ten minutes of straight punching, not slowing for a breath as far as Pietro could see. Now though, the archers hands fell still and he just leaned against the bag, his breathing heavy.

Pietro was on his feet in a flash, afraid Clint was about to pass out.

Though, when he approached, Clint turned with his hands up in a defensive position.

"Why did you do it!?" He yelled at Pietro, and it caused him to pause. Why'd he do what? The question must have crossed Pietro's face, because Clint continued on without prompt. "Why the fuck did you throw yourself infront of me like that!? I was fine dying!"

"Clint.." Pietro wished his voice was stronger, but it came out as a whisper. Barton was actually angry at him for it. His shoulders were tense and his eyes were hard, this was an anger Pietro hasn't seen before. This was a wild, nearly trapped anger that he could probably say he saw in stray dogs as a child.

But Pietro didn't have an answer. He wished he did, but he really didn't. It kept him awake most nights, kept swimming around his mind. Why did he move to protect the archer? They weren't friends, not by a long shot, not then at least.

But his body just moved. When he saw that jet coming towards him and the kid, when he saw the hail of bullets that were about to embed themselves in his body, he just moved on auto pilot. He just pushed himself to get to the pair, he made sure to get them to safety. He happily took the bullets, committed himself to death, and he didn't know why.

The lack of answer annoyed the archer. Something came over his eyes that sent fear throughout Pietro's body and instantly had him in the defensive position the man across from him taught just a few days previously.

"Calm down." Pietro said firmly, but nothing seemed to change. Barton took a step closer and shook his head. This wasn't Clint. He didn't know who this was, but it wasn't the fun loving, smiley, laughing Clint Barton they had gotten to know.

"Get on the mats." Clint simply replied, pointing over to the training mats in the corner of the room.

Pietro shot him a smirk and nodded. If he wanted a fight, he could fight!

"Gotta say, old man. Usually have to buy me a drink before ordering me around like that." Pietro said as he made his way to the training mats, his smirk still held in place. Flirting made the archer uncomfortable. How Pietro knew that, well, he may have tried a bit in the past few months! It would just be joking, of course..

 _Of course.._

 _Joking!_

 _It had to be!_

In the house, he'd pass the stupid little comments, and Barton would just roll his eyes and walk away. But, whenever he would do it in training, something passed over Clint's face that would make Pietro grin. That annoyed 'Did he just say that?' look that he knew the crappy lines would get!

Today though, there was no snappy reply. Clint just made his way over to the mats in silence and took his place.

Pietro will admit, the topless look was distracting him a little.. Abs like that shouldn't be possible, but, there they were!

He froze at the thought and shook his head clear, trying to focus on the top half of the archer across from him.

 _What's going on with you, Maximoff..?_

He waited. And waited. And waited some more. But Clint never moved. He just eyed Pietro with the most unnerving stare. Usually the archer would make the first move, usually he'd have Pietro defending. He didn't know what to do, so he did what he guessed Clint was waiting for him to do.

He moved like Barton would. He rushed the archer, not even a little fast by his standards though to give the guy a chance to actually teach Pietro. Still, kinda quick by a normal person's standard!

If there was anything that Pietro has learned over the past six months, it's that Clint Barton was NOT a normal person. Barton simply side stepped the oncoming blow and brought an elbow down on Pietro's neck, the blow sending the speedster down to the mat with a slight yell.

He didn't have a moment to get up though, because as his knees hit the mat, a boot sent him rolling onto his back and had him staring up at the ceiling. He didn't know the archer could move so fast, didn't know he had this sort of fight in him. He had obviously been going easy the past few weeks because this was completely new! This was the kind of Clint that sent the bullet through the glass floor, the kind that had Pietro pinned with a simple boot on the chest and could have killed him without a second thought.

In a flash, Barton was over him, his knees pressed hard on Pietro's shoulders to keep him pinned even as he struggled.

"What the hell are you doing?" Pietro asked in slight shock, but the archer above him just stared down. His eyes not leaving Pietro's and it kind of unsettled the speedster. This whole situation just screamed that something wasn't right, that something in Barton's mind had gone.

"You can fight." Clint said quietly after what seemed like an eternity, it had Pietro raising an eyebrow.

"Well, difficult when I have such a view distracting me.." He replied with a slight smirk, and he got that look again, that look he gets when he flirts, this seemed a little darker though.

"You can fight and you never do." Clint growled, leaning in closer to the speedster so their noses were nearly touching.

It had Pietro's breath caught in his throat. He may have been near motionless before, but now he definitely couldn't move an inch, in case he broke this moment. It wasn't the most ideal moment, but something about it made Pietro's heart skip.

"You never land a blow, never run rings around me." He continued on, he must have realised Pietro was a little too lost in thought to reply. "You let me land blows, you let me pin you.. But I remember seeing you taking out plenty of robots in Sokovia."

"That was then." Pietro said quietly, trying to advert his gaze now. No hope though, Clint had a hand on his chin in an instant to force eye contact.

"Why do you hold back?" He whispered, something in his eyes was softening. No, not softening.

Something in his eyes was breaking, and it made Pietro want to pull him in and just mind him. He realised then why he's never seen Clint this way, why he's never seen this side of the archer.

Because he never let them see this. He always hid these from the twins.

Flashbacks.

Something Natasha had warned them about. Something about Post Trauma, Clint was prone to flashbacks during the day and it had him out of sorts, aggressive, completely different for a while. That's what was happening right now and it broke his heart to see Clint go through this.

"Why don't you hit me?" He was a little louder this time, but it struck Pietro that the archer didn't trust his voice enough to go much above a whisper.

Why doesn't he hit him?

Why doesn't he fight back in sparring or training?

Why doesn't he use the skills he learned with his sister to fight back and prove that he can?

 _The training will stop._

 _These little moment would stop._

He doesn't want these little moments to stop.

He needs these little moments.

His eyes went a little wide when Clint started shaking. This is definitely new, but then again, this whole situation was new. They knew he has flashbacks, he locked himself away in his room and wouldn't come out for hours when they hit, but they've never been around like this when it happened.

The shaking was getting slightly worse, his breath was starting to get raspy and he was beginning to shift ontop of the speedster like he wanted to get off but couldn't move.

"Why didn't you hit me?" He whispered harshly, his hands shooting up to hold onto his head, in pain or not Pietro couldn't tell. But he didn't care, he was in distress and that was enough to send him into a world of panic. "Why didn't you let the bullets hit me?"

"Wanda!" Pietro called out, knowing his voice wouldn't reach his sister but his distress should reach her no problem. Distance was yet to be an issue between them.

Barton was starting to hyperventilate and it gave Pietro enough of a chance to get out from under him. Clint was still holding his head and shaking on his knees, and all Pietro could do was fall down beside him and pull him in for a hug. He just held him, held him through the panic attack, held him even when Wanda appeared with Natasha by her side, he didn't let go even when Natasha took Clint's face in her hands and ordered him to calm down, tried let him know everything was ok, that he was safe, that nothing was going to hurt him.

He held him, because that's all he could do to help.

Why didn't he fight back?

Why did he take those bullets?

Why wouldn't he let him go now?

Why couldn't he stop this panic in him over Clint's pain?

Why did he yell at Wanda and Natasha when they tried get him to move?

What was this protective feeling he had?

As he watched the archer in his arms, when he calmed down enough and was asleep, or passed out, in his grip. As he waited for Natasha to bring the car around so they could put him in, so they could get him to Stark's, he realised what those feelings were, realised what the feelings that had him so unsettled for so long were. He realised why he took those bullets, why he couldn't let the archer go.

He realised why he flirted, he realised why he had to be so close. He realised why he wanted to fix that top step, why he wanted to train with him. He realised why he felt the need to protect him, why he woke him each morning. He realised why the simplest smile from the archer sent his heart into a frenzy.

He cursed himself as he carried the sleeping man to the car, placing him in the back seat as comfortably as he could manage.

He was fucked if it was true.

He was in so much trouble if it was true.

Because, if it was true, that meant one crazy and near improbable thing.

That meant he was in love with the archer.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. The more he allowed the thought to settle, the more he watched the sleeping face of the man in the back seat, the more it became clear, yet the more it terrified him.

 _I'm in love with Clint Barton._


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry! Long week! Have some chapters of some fics written though, cause I had alot of time!

And hello followers! Nice to meet you all!

Now, onto the next!

Reviewers;

Niom Lamboise; Really glad you're enjoying it :) Hope you like the rest! :)

DISCLAIMER; STILL DON'T OWN!

* * *

He couldn't remember the last thing he remembered

How fucked up was that?

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember.

Something happened, that's all he knows.

Something happened to have him currently lying in the back seat of a car, Natasha speeding her way down some highway. Something happened to have her talking way too fast, to have Wanda beside her talking equally as fast.

Something happened to have Pietro unnaturally quiet.

That last point had him more worried than anything.

He was lying across the back seat of the car, what confused him most was that his head was resting on Pietro's lap. The kid was just watching the pair in the front of the car, but his hand was lazily running through Clint's hair which nearly lulled the archer back to sleep.

"It's happened plenty of times before." He heard Natasha say, but his eyes remained trained on the underside of the speedster's chin. He had some stubble that Clint has never noticed before. He always thought of clean shaven when he thought of Pietro. "We usually force him to rest it off, but couldn't do it this time obviously."

"Can we go to your place?" He asked quietly, smirking to himself when he saw Pietro leap from fright. The kids eyes were on him in an instant, and Clint could swear he saw relief in them. Did something really bad happen? "You know how much I hate Stark's place."

"Sorry Hawk." Natasha laughed, and he rolled his head to look at the back of hers. Wanda was looking back at him with a smile. "Already called ahead. Steve's insisting."

"Well, what the good captain wants.." He laughed out, giving a slight grunt then as he tried sit up.

Pietro's hands moved away, but remained close incase Barton needed some help, he assumed. Natasha shot him a look real quick that told him to lie his ass back down, and after years of teaming with the deadly assassin, he knew better than to disagree.

Pietro's lap was surprising comfy anyway.. And he just somehow knew that one thing that calmed him down was someone playing with his hair.

"I allowed know what happened?" He whispered to Maximoff when the girls were busy chatting once again, and something passed Pietro's face that Clint couldn't quite decipher.

"You don't remember?" He whispered back, his hand pausing in it's playing, and Clint found himself wishing it hadn't.

A simple shake of his head had Pietro sighing. He gave the archer a little smile then, one that Clint couldn't help but return.

"Bad attack." Pietro said so quietly he could barely catch it, and Clint knew why. Whenever he had a bad panic attack, a bad flashback, Natasha always tried hide it, always told the others not to mention it because more often than not it managed to trigger another one. But something about the softness of Pietro's voice, something about how easily he said it and how little a deal he made about it, something about the way his hand resumed playing with the strands of the archers hair just had a calm feeling flowing through his body rather than a panic stricken one.

"Well.. That sucks." Clint said with a slight grin, his eyes slipping closed as he found it more and more difficult to stay awake. The only good thing about wearing himself out to the point of collapse after bad missions was that he was so exhausted afterwards he just slept like a baby!

Pietro didn't say another word, he didn't need to. He just let Clint slip into a sleep. The sounds left, the pain left, the bump of the road left. But the feel of the hand running through his hair stayed, and it lulled him into one of the nicest sleeps he's had in a long time.

* * *

He hated this tower. So damn much!

It was probably some psychological thing with him. Since it became basically Avenger's HQ, he just seemed to associate it with missions, with going into Hydra territory looking for Loki's sceptre. That damn sceptre..

That blue orb, the infinity stone they later learned, that damn sceptre that managed to turn him into a mindless zombie and attack the city he loved..

 _Don't Clint._

 _Breathe._

He took a deep breath with his eyes closed for a moment, probably earning a strange looks from those in the living area with him, but they should be used to this by now!

A week since his attack and he still hasn't gotten all the details. Pietro seems cautious around him, and he noticed the Wanda watches him a lot more carefully aswell.

He really hoped it wasn't a violent attack. He had them a lot after the New York battle. Whatever flashback would go through his mind would have him attacking anyone near him. Natasha sported a nice broken wrist for a while after one incident at the dinner table.

He had no idea what triggered the attacks, no clue how to stop them. All he could do was handle them, and hope to whatever lord is out there that he doesn't do some serious damage to either himself or those around him.

"Now I know where I know you from!" Wanda cheered out of no where, and Clint had to open his eyes to see who she was talking about. His mouth formed an 'o' shape when he realised it was him.

"Uh-oh." Steve snickered from next to the archer, taking a swig from his beer with a smile the Captain usually got when he did something mischievous.

"You're the archer Hawkeye!" She said with a grin, and the whole room's eyebrows raised.

"I think they already know that." Pietro said to his sister, and Clint could hear him trying to hold back a laugh.

He looked to Natasha by his side and gave her a wink, he knew what Wanda was getting at, and the wink to Natasha was his way of letting her know it was nothing to be spoken aloud! She just grinned and nodded, always amused by his circus stories! More so the pictures, because god damn that purple get up was the most embarrassing thing he ever donned..

He remembered doing some shows around the area of Sokovia alright, near the end of his run with the group, when he was at his best, when the circus was at it's best! He never thought that the twins would have seen him though, but Pietro across from him just seemed dumbfounded so he obviously didn't remember.

A knowing grin spread across Wanda's lips, and he just knew she was in his head right now.

"I am." He replied with a nod, taking a swig of his own bottle. "Well observed!"

"You HAVE to teach me that trick with the spinning person!" She grinned, shooting up from her seat like an excited child. He couldn't hold back his laugh.

Sure, it had been a while since he's done any of his old tricks!

"Why not." He laughed, chugging down the last of his drink before standing. "If Captain Rogers agrees to be my assistant!"

"Assistant to a carnie trick?" Steve asked with an eyebrow raised, but the smile he held told Clint he was only teasing. "Oh I dunno.. You might have lost your touch through the years.."

"It doesn't matter." Pietro said suddenly, cutting Clint's smart comment off. He looked to the kid with an eyebrow raised, the other three in the room doing the same. "He has to rest."

"It's just a little shooting, kid." Clint sighed, shaking his head at the comment. "I've done it with broken arms and concussions."

"Well, I wasn't there those times." Pietro replied with a frown. Clint couldn't figure this kid out. One minute he'd be joking, and the next he'd be like this.

He just waved him off with a laugh and went to the little kitchenette to get some apples. "Relax worry wart! It's just three arrows! I can do it with my eyes closed!"

"I thought the trick was eyes closed!" He heard Wanda call, he had to smirk at her memory. He juggled three apples in his hand as he walked back into the sitting area.

"Good point. It will be with my eyes closed!"

He frowned a little when he noticed Pietro was gone, glancing to the side he could just see the retreating back of the speedster as he walked down the hall that led to their bedrooms.

He didn't like upsetting the kid, he really didn't. But it was just a trick, and Wanda had asked. He could hardly turn them down.

He squinted a little when the all too familiar thump of a migraine started behind his eyes. He'd have to take some pain killers in a few. Right now though, he handed Steve the apples with a grin.

"It's easy!" He cheered, seeing an uneasy face on the Captain wasn't something he'd ever get used to! "One on your head, one in each hand. Hold your hands up and out, I'll block one side of each apple with a piece of paper, eyes closed, shoot three arrows at the same time, simple!"

The laugh Natasha gave was just as priceless as the look on Steve's face that earned it. He was as white as the paper the archer was currently drawing a little target on.

"The great Captain America, survives a plane crash, and is afraid of a little arrow." Clint laughed, letting Natasha take the paper and set the Captain up while Clint went to the cabinet in the room to get his bow and arrows.

"I have to what!?" Steve suddenly yelled, and Clint grinned to himself, figuring that Natasha told him the last little bit of the trick.

"Oh yeah! You have to spin around!" He cheered, taking a knee a little away from Steve and nocking three arrows like it was nothing. He had to do this 360 days a year, night after night. He could do this in his sleep.

Wanda was watching on like an excited child and it was nice sight!

Their parents. He doubted they went with whatever home they were put into after being left alone, at least the homes he was in would never take him and Barney to a circus. Most times a treat was just an extra slice of toast in the morning. Their parents much have taken them before their passing, so this would be a good memory for the girl. How could Clint pass this up knowing that!?

 _Is that why Pietro walked off..? Does he actually remember it and doesn't want to remember his parents?_

Why doesn't he know much about this pair that have shared his life for so long. .?

"It's fine! You'll be fine, I promise!" Natasha's laughing words hit his ears as he closed his eyes and it caused him to take pause.

The headache thumped, he could feel his hands shake.

 _"It's fine. You'll be fine, I promise." Natasha whispered to him, but he was taking no notice. He needed out of this place, he needed to get out and go find Wanda, he needed to apologise, he needed to seek her forgiveness. He needed to sort things out for Pietro, he needed to help her bury him, he couldn't let anyone else do it! So he trashed in the bed, even as Steve held him down by the shoulders._

 _"He's dead!" He rasped out, trying to hold back sobs that were threatening to take over his body. "He jumped infront of me! He saved me, and now he's dead!"_

"Clint!" Her voice broke through to him, and in a blur Natasha came into sight right infront of him. Steve and Wanda were either side of her, but she was the one with her hands on his cheeks. "You're ok, you're safe."

The bow and arrows were no longer in his grip. He panicked for a moment and looked to Steve, afraid that he let the arrows fly with shaky hands. No arrow was in him, so that was one thing to lessen his worry.

"You're ok." Natasha said once more, her hands leaving his cheeks when he came a little more back into the present. "Know what triggered it?"

Bow? No, he used that plenty of times since his last one.

Circus memories? They were different flashbacks.

It was the same flashback as the one last week, only shorter because Natasha knew how to bring him out of it.

 _What was the same between these two times..?_

"Pietro.." He whispered with slightly wide eyes, stumbling to his feet and running off in the direction of the speedster's room.

Both times Pietro was involved. Both times, he had a silly disagreement with the kid. Both times he upset Pietro, both times one of them stormed off and left the other alone. Both times ill feelings were present between the two.

Pietro was causing these, and he had no clue how to stop them!

Confrontation. That's all that was running through his mind. Confront the problem, analyse the problem, if needs be take out the problem.

He didn't knock, he swung open the door once he got to it and glared at the startled kid sitting on the bed, he was sitting there reading the back of a dvd case.

"If you wanted to catch me naked.." Pietro started with a slight smirk, and Clint shook his head quickly. The migraine was getting worse, why was it getting worse?

"I just.." He started, finding that he couldn't actually find the words though.

 _I just wanted to make sure you were ok?_

 _I just needed to know you're still alive?_

 _I just need you to explain why the fuck you didn't let me die?_

 _I just want to sit with you?_

 _I just want to be with you?_

 _I just don't want us to fight anymore?_

 _I just can't have us fighting anymore..?_

 _I just need you..?_

That's what the similarity was. Those two times, sure, he upset Pietro. And that may be part of the reason. But the other reason is Pietro wasn't around. When Clint was upset, or annoyed, those two times, he wasn't around Pietro.

 _I just need you._

"I just wanted to say sorry.." He eventually said, Pietro had obviously realised that something was wrong, because he was off the bed and infront of Clint now. Those eyes were on. Those eyes he saw a week ago in the back of the car.

"For out there?" Pietro asked with an eyebrow raised, waving the archer off with a smile when he gave a nod of confirmation. "I just want you relaxing, Barton. So we can get out of this tower and back to the nice little farm."

"You still want to go back there?" Clint asked in slight shock, his migraine beginning to lessen. Damn, just being around him even helped. "Even after last week?"

"Well, I don't get to see you topless nearly as much here."

Clint rolled his eyes at the speedster's smirk, shaking his head as he turned to leave the room. Here he was thinking Pietro was serious about wanting to live at the farm! "You're an ass."

"If you can't face them yet, I'm about to watch a movie" Pietro said softly, causing Clint to pause with a hand on the door. "Hurt Locker. Natasha recommended it. Might be a good distraction."

"Your sister teaching you to read minds or something?" He asked quietly, debating if he should stay in here or not. Be better than facing Natasha. Be better than facing the scrutiny of Wanda. His headache wasn't as bad in here, and he really wanted to stay with him.

"Not really." Pietro laughed, Clint could hear the click of a dvd case and the tv on the wall being turned on. "But you had that look in your eyes when you came in. The one from the barn. So, relax for a while."

Relaxing for a while sounds perfect. So, he nodded and moved back to the bed, not making eye contact with Maximoff though. He put the pillow against the head board and sat back as the movie began, Pietro happily sitting next to him on the bed.

Silence enveloped them for the two hours. Not a word, not a sound. No an awkward moment.

It was a seriously nice silence, and a perfect moment, one that Clint could get used to.

* * *

When he woke, he was seriously confused.

Though his eyes were closed, the scent of wherever he was just wasn't familiar to him. Not his room, so he didn't go back there last night. Not a hospital, so nothing bad happened that had him strapped down for another stay in the psyche ward.

Just, somewhere unfamliar.

 _Clint Barton. Archer. SHIELD agent. Avenger. Little fucked in the head, gotta keep reminding yourself of this stuff._

 _Circus trick. Flashback. Pietro._

He opened his eyes with a curious pout when the last thought swam through his mind, the memories of last night slowly started slipping back into his mind.

They had settled down to watch a movie. He got about 40 minutes in before falling to lie a little more comfortably. About 50 minutes in before his head managed to rest against Pietro's side. About and hour before he couldn't remember much else.

 _You idiot.. You fell asleep here.._

He was on his side on the bed, so when he opened his eyes he was greeted with the sleeping face of Pietro on the other pillow. One of his arms was behind his head, under the pillow, a comfort thing the guy must have. The other, well, that hand was resting gently on Clint's hip.

What's worse is, he didn't seem to mind. It was comforting, having someone's hand so protectively resting on your hip would make anyone happy.

But it shouldn't.

He shouldn't be happy about waking up here.

He shouldn't be happy that this was one of the only morning's he woke up voluntarily, not spooked awake or forced awake.

He shouldn't be happy that last night was the only night in a long time he didn't startle awake with nightmares.

He shouldn't be overjoyed waking to see Pietro so calmly sleeping next to him.

Yet he was. And it had him giving a relaxed sigh before nuzzling the pillow to try find sleep again.

It wouldn't come.

His mind was too focused on the hand resting on his hip, the weight of it, the feel of it, the tingle it managed to give him.

He wasn't lying down properly when he fell asleep, that much he could remember. So did Pietro position them like this? Did Pietro lie him down when the movie was finished and just automatically fall into this position?

Or did he even know Clint was still here?

 _Dammit, you gotta get up Barton._

 _If he wakes and didn't know that you were here then you're fucked!_

Carefully, slowly, like he learned to do when slipping out of a stake out room with Natasha, he slipped the hand from his hip and got out of the bed. Without another sound, without a word, he left the room he was so happy in a moment ago and headed down the hallway.

"Well, look who decided to join us!" He froze when Stark's voice hit his ears, turning his head with an eyebrow raised to see himself, Natasha, and Steve sitting in the kitchen area with some breakfast. "We were about to throw some ice water over the pair of you."

Clint groaned a little and face palmed, making his way into the kitchen anyway.

"I just fell asleep watching a movie." He mumbled, busying himself by pouring a cup of coffee. "Nothing else."

"There we were worried about you.." Stark continued, and even though Clint was watching his coffee mug with his back facing the room, he could practically see the smirk across his face. "Then Romanoff and Wanda find you two all curled up in each others arms. I hope he took you to dinner first!"

"Tony." Natasha scolded, though Clint could hear the chuckle threatening to break through. He felt her hand on his shoulder then and he looked to see the 'You ok now?' face on her.

He just nodded and grabbed his mug of coffee, leaving the trio in the kitchen to go to his own room.

He didn't know what went on with Pietro last night. Definitely wasn't what Tony was suggesting, he'd remember if it was.

When in his room, he left the coffee on the night stand and stripped down, then headed into the shower while his mind wandered.

He never even let Natasha that close. And they've been partners for years.

Yet, all he wanted to do right now was go back to Pietro's room and act like he never left.

He let out a sigh as he stood under the stream of water, letting his forehead rest against the cold wall tiles.

What was this kid doing to him..?


	4. Chapter 4

Onto the next chapter!

Thank you for the favourites and follows! Means alot! Really glad that you guys are enjoying this, because I'm loving it and finding it difficult to limit it to 10 chapters but they're my rules for requests so I gotta!

Reviewers!

Niom Lamboise; Gotta thank your idea for the chapters being great! I may have run a little wild with your idea, but I hope you enjoy the next few chapters anyway! :)

Cori; Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it that much :o Annoying Clint in stories, making people happy, writing until my fingers hurt, they're basically my daily tasks in order of importance and frequency! :P Hope you enjoy the rest! :)

Eniko151; I do this weird thing when I get such a nice compliment as yours where I pull whatever I'm wearing up over my eyes and squeal like an excited 5 year old. Your review came in while I having a conversation with my mother and had to do it and now she's worried for my mental health so thank you :P I'm glad you're enjoying it! Honestly, not much of a shipper of them, but I'm slowly coming around to it the more I see! :P Hope you enjoy the rest :)

Disclaimer; *Le sigh* ... *Le points to other chapters disclaimers* ... *Le can you tell I barely passed ordinary level French in the leaving cert?*

* * *

He was getting used to alot of things in this new life of his.

He was getting used to a warm bed, he was getting used to having a home. He was getting used to not being in cramped bases all day every day. He was getting used to having free reign over his actions and not having to beg for peoples permission to even see his sister for more than a half hour of training. He was still getting used to all this nearly 8 months on.

More than that, Pietro was trying his best to get used to having a family.

Because that's what they were, right?

Not in the conventional sense of the word. They weren't born to the same parents, they weren't adopted together. They didn't grow up together, though some days it did feel like that.

But, that's what they were, the people sitting around the breakfast table right now were a family.

At first, maybe not. At first, they were just a rag tag team of people with extraordinary powers and abilities thrown together to fight off some alien attack. Then they were given two new kids to fight off a robot attack.

But now, the way they laughed, the way they went on, the way they were so comfortable around eachother made them a family.

It was an ordinary morning as far as he was concerned.

After the horrible task of waking Clint and Tony (both more like eachother than they care to admit, both only waking by the promise of coffee and pancakes) the insane mix of residents of Avengers Tower sat down at the rather cramped table in the common kitchen area.

He knew them all well enough now to relax at these things. Before, at the likes of breakfast and dinner, the only times the whole group was ordered by Pepper to spend time together, he'd be on guard. He'd be waiting for one of them to attack, waiting for something to happen to him or his sister, just waiting for the usual something bad that would ruin a nice moment his life had.

He looked at the archer across from him as he enthusiastically told a story to Sam Wilson and couldn't help but smile. It was his easy going way at these events that eventually made Pietro relax. After six months living alone with him and Wanda on a farm he learned that Clint Barton was quite possibly the most guarded and on edge person he knew when in social situations. So, one morning when he saw Clint in the most relaxed state he's ever been in, that let Pietro know that it was fine to let his guard down around these people.

It was loud. Steve and Tony were having their usual argument about something or another, never really serious, they just liked disagreeing with eachother. Wanda beside him was talking to Romanoff across from her about some training she wanted to try. Natasha very rarely left Clint's side, and vice versa. Pietro knew they were partners for years, but he couldn't help his mind wandering a little bit more into that. Doctor Banner, Bruce he thinks he heard him being called once, was having a nice quiet conversation with Pepper. He liked the two of them. He may be speedy, may always seem like he has to be on the go and in these sort of dynamic situations, but he liked his peace and quiet and Pepper and Doctor Banner seemed to be the only two in this tower capable of that.

Right now, Pietro just happily sat in the middle of all the chaos and ate his pancakes. Pepper made good ones, he loved the mornings she'd wake up in the mood to make a big spread. With her job running Stark Industries, it was rare. But she made sure to make the effort at least once a week for the team.

"Alright kid!" Everyone looked to Clint when he spoke over the sound of the small crowd, Pietro's eyebrow raised when he realised the archer was grinning at him. "I let you awaywith training long enough! In the gym, 20 minutes."

"But-" Pietro started with a frown, about to say he didn't think Clint was rested enough to be sparring again. But Barton raising a hand and making some weird 'La la la' sounds cut him off.

"I don't wanna hear it! I'm fine and itching to train, so I'll see ya down there!" He was way too happy this morning. Maybe he was feeling better, because usually he'd be like a zombie right now. He was even a little easier to wake up this morning, and Pietro realised that must mean he's right and that's he is fine.

He watched with a slight smile as Clint patted Natasha's back, she had signed something to him but Pietro couldn't figure out what since he didn't even know the most simple ASL. He left then, out of the kitchen area after thanking Pepper. Pietro couldn't tear his eyes away from the archer, even after gone from view he watched.

Getting used to loving him was by far the trickiest one of the lot!

"It's fine to give the puppy eyes when he's here.." Natasha said, and Pietro looked to see her smirking at him. "But giving them to the wall is a little much."

"I.." He stammered out, a little speechless at being caught. He wasn't THAT obvious, was he..?

"Never seen him flustered before." Wanda said through a little laugh, poking her brothers cheek to get his attention.

He pouted at her and shook his head. "I don't know what you two are on about."

"I think it's a little late for that, son." Steve laughed, and it just increased Pietro's embarrassment level. "We're not all as dense as Barton when it comes to this."

"Well, Tony might be." Pepper chimed in as she stood, earning a laugh from Banner as he helped her clear up the table.

"Hey! Even I can tell there's something going on with them!" Tony defended with a pout, his arms folded across his chest like a toddler.

"Only after we pointed it out." Sam countered, and that was the comment that had his jaw on the floor.

 _They actually spoke about this..?_

Was his personal life just conversation for the lot of them? Something to chat about over some beers and pizza?

He groaned a little and let his head fall against the table, feeling his sisters hand rub circles on his back as he earned some chuckles from everyone else.

"What do I do?" He grumbled to the wooden surface, though it was directed at the remaining team members in the room. "I try get him to realise, try see if he's interested. But nothing works."

"Because he's an idiot." He heard Natasha reply through a laugh. He raised his head to look at her, not really believing they would actually help him. But Natasha, Wanda, Steve, Tony and Sam all leaned in like they had been waiting for this chance for the past two weeks. "He doesn't do subtle."

"That's for sure!" Steve laughed, looking from Pietro to Sam then. "He loves his cheesy pick up lines. What was the one he used on you?"

 _Used on Sam.._

 _He used a pick up line on Sam.._

That was half the battle out of the way! Interested in guys, that was definitely one of Pietro's main worries!

"Oh god.." Sam groaned, face palming at the memory of it. "Did you sit in a pile of sugar? Cause you have a pretty sweet ass."

"That was it!" Steve laughed, nodding his head as he did so. The others laughed too, and even though the situation had him mortified it even gave Pietro a chuckle.

"Not as bad as that one in the bar in Detroit." Natasha said with a smirk, and Steve's mimicked expression told Pietro the memory was directed at him.

"Oh I felt bad for the poor soul.." Steve chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "I don't even know where he thought of 'I bet you $20 you're gonna turn me down'.."

"Please tell me that worked." Tony laughed, nearly spitting out his coffee at the line. Pietro wondered if the billionaire was subtly taking notes.

Both Steve and Natasha laughed, their heads shaking.

"The guy gave Clint $20 without a second thought! Poor Clint gave up after that rejection and just went to the next one with 'Just ask the other 15 what lines I used and see what one works for you!'" Natasha replied once her laughs calmed down enough to be heard properly.

Pietro smiled to himself at the little stories. He liked the idea of Clint chatting people up, liked thinking of him as just some normal guy going to bars to pick someone up. He knew Clint the person, Clint the farmer, Clint the fighter. He knew Hawkeye the archer, Hawkeye the Avenger, Hawkeye the SHIELD agent, and even Hawkeye; the worlds greatest marksman. But he never really knew Clint the person, Clint the flirt, Clint the drinking partner. He felt a bit jealous that even Steve knew that side of Clint.

"I don't know. Not sure Pietro would get away with lines like that." Wanda said from his side, and he looked to see her smirking at him. She knew damn well he was known for chatting people up exactly like that! But they were only ever one night stands, times he just wanted to get the ride out of his system. She knew he wanted more than that with Clint, and that's what she was telling him with that line. "Maybe just keep up the way you're going and something might break through."

"Not likely." Tony scoffed, swinging back in his chair to sip from his coffee. Him and Clint really were too alike. He saw the archer in that position each morning while planning the day. "Just go for it! If he rejects you, he rejects you. Just move on and it'll be fine!"

They all very quickly shut up when Clint poked his head in the door. Pietro had a little heart attack moment thinking the archer heard every word, but he simply smirked at the speedster.

"Go get ready! I was serious about training y'quick little bastard!"

Pietro laughed and nodded, standing then with a nod of thanks to everyone at the table before walking past Barton to go get ready.

"It's your funeral, old man!" He smirked as he passed, patting Clint on the shoulder before moving down the hall.

He didn't know what he was going to do. But he'd try a bit of everything and see what works!

* * *

"You joining our little team soon enough?"

"I don't know. Might be too much seeing your face each day."

"Don't use my beautiful face as an excuse."

Pietro smirked and shrugged at the response, his hands not moving from their spotting position though as the archer did some bench reps. Weight lifting was one of the only exercises over the past while that he'd let the archer do. He was itching to get shooting the say after he collapsed in the barn, and Natasha suggested this to keep his hands and arms busy. Didn't use up too much of his energy and it gave Pietro a pretty nice view while spotting him.

"I never said beautiful." Pietro said through a chuckle. Clint's eyes were closed as he lifted but he did crack a smirk.

"I know. I was correcting it for you." He chuckled, nodding his head a little to let Pietro know he was finished.

He helped the archer set the weight on the bar and he soon jumped up with a 'Woo!' to sit at the end of the bench. Pietro rolled his eyes and threw a towel at him.

"You're a meat head." Pietro sighed, making his way to the training ring Stark had set up in the middle of the room then. It was alot nicer to fall on than those horrible mats Barton has in his barn! "Wouldn't think it with scrawny arms like yours."

"Scrawny?" Barton practically choked the word out. Pietro hummed with a smirk, resting his back against the turnbuckle in the corner of the ring as he watched the archer approach. "You only think that cause I'm around a super soldier all day. His are enhanced, mine are all natural!"

"We're not talking about boobs here. I know yours are big, and damn they're pretty nice, but we're talking about muscles." Pietro couldn't help himself, Clint was making too easy a target.

The archer growled and slid into the ring, standing back up properly in the middle of it just as quickly and stretching himself out a little.

"Get the fuck out of the corner." He said lowly, causing Pietro to frown. Maybe he hit a nerve, or maybe Barton was just annoyed he didn't have a come back to the boob joke.

"What are we working on today, boss?" Pietro asked with a smile, deciding to try throw the heavy mood out the window as he moved to face Barton in the centre of the ring. The mood seemed to hang over the archer though, something dark crossing his features as they squared up to eachother.

There was no answer. This was a communicative thing with the pair. If Pietro asked what was going to happen during training, and he got an answer by a swing of an arm (like now), then that meant he was being tested and just had to last as long as he possibly could against the assassin.

His personal best was three minutes and fifteen seconds.

He avoided the punch by ducking down, though Barton's knee very quickly connected with his chest and sent the speedster flying backwards flat out on his back on the mat. He couldn't help but let out a breathless chuckle as he sat himself up, rubbing the sore spot on his chest as he smirked at the archer.

"Alright, I was a little off, I'll admit it.." Pietro started through a chuckle, standing up then to mimic Clint's fighting stance. "But, as usual, you found the right way to turn me on."

It was an unspoken rule between the two that Pietro was kind of forbidden from going anywhere near his usual speed. Alright, it wasn't really unspoken. It was a rule that came from a very frustrated Barton shouting 'For fuck's sake, kid! I am NOT re patching the roof again!' when Maximoff ran rings around him the third or fourth fighting session. So, while they sparred, he went normal speed.

This time, Pietro made the move. He swung out with his leg to try trip the archer up, but Barton simply leapt in the air to avoid the sweep. Expecting that, Pietro picked the moment Barton would be most vulnerable and struck out across his face with a fist, sending the agent down onto his knees when he finally landed.

"Even that didn't mess up your face." Pietro pouted as Clint glared at him, the archer simply spitting out a bit of blood onto the mat and testing out his jaw before leaping back to his feet and going for the speedster.

This was new.

This scared Pietro.

While Pietro was to go slow and give Clint a chance to teach him something, it was an actual unspoken rule that Clint would keep his skill level to the most minimum he possibly could to both give Maximoff a chance to learn different fighting styles and to mimic what Barton called 'The shit basics most bad guys know.'.

But this? This wave of attack was something he'd never seen before. Even while fighting the robot army of death he didn't see the archer move like this.

Fists were flying at a dizzying rate. Pietro had to increase his speed to proper levels just to avoid each hit, the pair moving around the ring in some sort of ritualistic dance. They were aiming everywhere, face, chest, throat, and a few to the stomach. Some landed, which shocked the speedster, because he should be moving quick enough to avoid all blows from Barton, should just be close to a blur for the archer.

One blow that landed on his stomach told him that something in Clint had snapped and he wasn't messing around anymore. While others were painful, he'd easily shake them off and the two would go at it again. But this was beyond painful. This knocked all the wind out of Pietro and had him on his knees clutching his stomach to relieve the pain that was radiating from there.

He didn't have a moment to rest though, because when he looked up he could just make out Clint flipping in the air in what he could only describe as a somersault before he could feel a foot connecting painfully with the part of his body that connected neck to shoulder, quite possibly one of the only nerves in the body that could paralyse someone in an instant.

He let out a painful yelp and fell onto his back, his hand shooting out to clutch the abused and already bruising part of his upper body. His eyes were screwed shut from pain, so he could only hear when Barton walked past him and left the ring.

"Next time you want to fuck around and play a flirt, make sure you have the balls to back it up." Clint's words hit his ears, and he found himself amazed that the archer didn't even sound out of breath. He sounded off though, sounded annoyed. "And don't ever waste my training time with it again."

The slamming of a door told him that he was left alone in the ring, in the room, battered and bruised from a sparring session he never even dreamed he'd go through.

He let out a curse and smacked his fists on the mat beneath him, finally opening his eyes then to look up at the ceiling.

Being subtle and patient didn't work. Barton didn't even notice his apparent puppy eyes or the efforts to keep close and in constant company with him.

Flirting definitely didn't work. Flirting just got his ass handed to him and pissed the archer off enough to have him storm out of a training session.

Pietro let out a sigh and slowly sat up, watching the door the archer left through like he was expecting him to just come back and apologise. He didn't need to apologise though. He did pick a shitty time to try flirting. He knew how seriously Clint took training, so it was definitely a bull shit move to pick it as the time to mess around.

Only one option left, and it was the one that he was most terrified of.

'Just go for it! If he rejects you, he rejects you. Just move on and it'll be fine!'

 _Alright, Pietro.._

 _Just go for it.._


	5. Chapter 5

Legitimately waited as long as I could to post this.. Can't wait anymore!  
Halfway through! Now things can start! :3 Think this is the last Clint view chapter until chapter 10. So, enjoy it while it lasts!

Review please! I like reviews! They make me make a weird sounds and fills me with happy feels!

REVIEWERS!

Niom Lamboise; My dear, thank you. My muse went a little bit mental on this chapter and I just love it. I love these two way too much and just never thought to put them together so I seriously have to thank you for getting my ass in gear to write this! I'm glad you're enjoying it, I really am, and I hope I updated quick enough for you :P

Disclaimer! Tara; *Leaves*  
Pietro; *Looks around* Emm.. Think it's up to you and me now, Barton. She seriously does not own us or anything to do with Marvel, trust me. If she did then this chapter would be in the movies already, right Clint?  
Clint; *Nods* Definitely. She got all squishy at how cute she thought I was in this chapter. So, if she owned Marvel, she'd definitely have that Renner guy act this out for cuteness overload.  
Pietro; Well.. She did get the you being way too cute thing spot on..  
Clint; ... *Aims an arrow at Pietro* Smooth little bastard..

* * *

That little punk was driving him mad..

He couldn't help storming out of the training room, because it was either that or lose his shit all together and kill the kid.

Over reacted? Perhaps. But it's how he was brought up. How he was trained to react. Fight or flight instinct, and he never chose the flight.

Most fancy head-doctor folk would tell you that the fight or flight instinct only really ever kicks in during danger or times you feel trapped. Barton did feel trapped. Everytime he was around the kid, everytime he was that close, everytime he had the chance and excuse to put his hands on that too perfect to be natural body..

Every single time he was left alone with Pietro, he felt trapped.

"Shit.." He murmured to himself out in the hall, letting a hand rest against the wall to support himself as he stared at the floor.

The trapped feeling was new. It wasn't the same as when he'd have fights with his father and be too afraid to leave his room. Not like when he'd be taken by Hydra or be stuck in a building with an army of drug mules firing at him. This wasn't a feeling that would race across the network in his brain, telling him to do something or he'd die. This was a feeling that would start in his chest and spread through his whole body until there was nothing but the warm, near adrenaline level feeling remaining.

This trapped feeling was one no amount of fight or flight would be able to get rid of, no matter how much he tried work it out of his system in training.

It started a few days ago, the day he woke up in a state of pure peace and comfort, surrounded by his scent. No, that was a lie, this feeling, this fire, started long before that. It started off as a slow burn whenever Pietro laughed at something he said, a laugh tinged with his accent that was just so Pietro. A laugh that, when heard for the first time by his damaged ears, just screamed the definition of musical perfection.

It moved into a wave of warmth that flooded through his veins whenever Pietro gave him that stupid smile, no, it was never a smile, more like a smirk, a half tilt of the lips that would stop everything in it's tracks. The sort of cocky smirk that he'd see when he'd knock Clint on his ass, the sort of smirk he'd see when he was celebrating over getting a large word right after struggling through a number of similar English words to find it. The smirk that would appear when he was around his sister, when he tried some new food, when he watched a movie he liked. Never a smile, it was too perfect to be called a smile.

It spread through every fibre and ounce of his being when he saw Pietro with a five o'clock shadow, and he couldn't figure out why that set him off more than anything else. He was human, this guy who he'd train with, this guy that had Barton up most nights wondering how such perfection could exist, got stubble just like he did. It proved, beyond anything, that this kid wasn't a kid, that's what had him so riled up. He called him kid, saw him as young, but then he'd stumble out of his room after a late night with stubble that just made him look so much older, so much better, and it had Clint having to stop himself reaching out to run his hand along his cheek every time.

Now it seemed to envelop him in a haze of warmth, as if he was wrapped in a large blanket each and every time Pietro did something remotely, well, Pietro like. It spread like wild fire when it looked like he needed someone, anyone, to let him know life wasn't all bad and that he had someone who cared for him. Be it a small laugh the he'd quickly conceal, something flashing across his eyes that told Clint the ghosts of Hydra still haunted his life. Be it the fear in his eyes when he'd startle awake from a nap, or the look on his face when he'd mess up a move set the archer would show him in training. It would spread through his body most of all when he'd get that puppy look, the look that shows he's been through so much that someone his age shouldn't have even dreamed of being put through.

It was love.

He had never felt it so much before, never experienced it to such a heart stopping and body melting degree. He loved Natasha. He loved his mother. He loved his arrows, he loved his farm, he loved his dog, he loved Wanda, hell he even loved Tony.

But this was different. This wasn't what he thought the definition of love was. This was something that would stop him in his tracks each and every day and have him acting like a teenager with a damn crush. This had his mind wandering, this had him worrying to new levels, this had him re-evaluating everything he did and everything he said because he knew that he had to think about not only how it would effect him, but how it would effect the damn kid that had found his way inside the archer.

And Clint found himself hating it. He hated loving someone.

He hated how Pietro made him feel, hated how the kid made everything in his day to day life revolve around his welfare. He hated how he couldn't stop thinking of that damn smirk, couldn't stop hearing that laugh whenever the bad times would take him to the deepest darkest pits of his mind. He hated how being in the same room as Pietro gave him peace like no other. Hated how all he wanted to do each night was crawl in bed and lay beside him, not touching, not even talking, just being.

He hated how the guy had found his way into his heart. He had tried for so long to keep that closed off, and now the quick little bastard was well and truly nestled in there.

He let out a sigh and gave the wall one quick punch, letting the stinging feeling envelope his whole hand and slowly spread up his arm. He let it try it's best to wash away that trapped feeling, wash away that warmth that plastered that stupid grin on his face.

He focused on it rather than the speedster as he walked the rest of the hall and got to his room.

A quick shower should help calm him down. Should help get his thoughts in check, should help clear his mind.

He hated loving someone. It was as simple as that. He couldn't love someone. If he loved someone, it left himself open to hurt. It exposed a nerve that anyone could poke and prod at, it exposed him as a human and not as an assassin. It exposed his heart. It compromised him. And anyone would tell you, once you're compromised, that's it. There's no second chance.

He needed to put some barriers back up otherwise he'd be in a very dangerous situation!

* * *

"My ears must deceive me! Maria Hill paying us a visit?"

"Uh-oh.. Here's trouble.."

He gave a slight chuckle at Hill's reply, stepping fully into the living area to see the one and only deputy-director of SHIELD standing by the back of the sofa talking with his partner. Both ladies shot him an amused smile, probably because he was topless and they always loved poking fun at him for anything they could. He was ruffling out his wet hair with a towel as he approached the pair.

Maria was a good friend, though both their schedules and lives kept them apart for long periods at a time. She was there when he was brought into SHIELD, she helped train him, helped him get his footing. She was one of the main reasons he had a chance, besides Coulson, and along with his handler she was one of the only people to not completely blank him and want him dead for bringing Natasha in rather than killing the Russian.

Most of all, she was his partner in crime. Not in the Natasha Romanoff 'Lets kill some bad guys and bust down some bases!' sense of the word, but rather in the the 'Lets change all the commands in Fury's office so everytime he asks for his office to be locked down Star Spangled Man With A Plan plays!' kind of sense. Honestly, she was the only reason he stays sane while on base!

He rushed over with a smirk when he saw a folder in her hand, and she knew what was coming. He never asked to look, never gave pleasantries. He just went over and tried snatch it from her hands, which always resulted in a little wrestling match between the pair.

"An easy mission, I hope." Clint laughed as he tried get out of a head lock she currently had him in. Natasha had given up waiting as soon as it started, knowing these little reunion moments lasted a while. She was now just sitting on the sofa, talking with Wanda and Pietro.

"Who says it's a mission, Francis?" She teased. His head was locked to a position where all he could do was stare at her feet, but he could hear the smirk in her voice as she spoke.

"I says! You only ever come see me when I can do something for you, cause you're a bitch like th- AH!" His sentence was cut off by a rough noogie, the hold her arm held on his tightening a little bit as he fist scratched his scalp.

"Don't be calling your superior a bitch, you bitch!" She laughed, finally pushing him off and kicking his ass before he could straighten up.

When he did finally stand properly, he stood to attention and saluted.

"Sorry ma'am! Won't happen again, Deputy-Director sexy ass!"

"Awh, you always were a charmer, Hawkeye!" She grinned, patting his cheek gently before nodding to the sitting area for them to sit.

He turned on his heels to follow Hill, but had to pause for a moment when he saw Pietro peeking over the back of the sofa. He was giving the pair a look he's never seen on the kid before, but Clint couldn't really decipher it because Pietro quickly turned back to face the proper way when he realised Clint noticed him.

It wasn't hurt, he's seen that on him before. Annoyance was definitely seen during those times they'd have run in's during the Ultron attack. It was a vacant look, and he held a frown that really didn't suit his face at all.

Clint shook the thoughts from his mind. He only just got those barriers back up, he couldn't have them ripped down again.

He draped the towel he was using over his bare shoulders as Maria went to sit on the coffee table, so she was able to face Natasha. She handed Romanoff the folder with a sly smile to Clint, he just rolled his eyes at her actions and hunched down behind the sofa so he could read over his partners shoulders.

"An easy mission." Maria said to start things off, answering Clint's earlier question for him. "Nothing the great Strike team Delta can't handle."

"Man, I was hoping for some fun." Clint said quietly, too busy reading the documents in the folder as Natasha skimmed through them.

"Sorry Hawk. Next time." Hill simply replied, continuing on then to fill them in on what had to be done. "Co-ordinates to one of the last Hydra bases operating in Europe are in there. All the main heads will be there since all the others were pretty much destroyed by you two and Cap."

"Why can't he go instead?" Clint pouted, looking up to his boss as she shrugged with a slight smirk.

"He's too busy chasing down his missing person so he asked me to get you two." She shrugged, her arms folding across her chest then. "Thought you'd be itching for a mission. Getting lazy in your old age?"

"Oh, suck a lemon." He laughed, taking the folder from Natasha when she was done reading to get a closer look.

"What do you need us to do?" Natasha asked with a sigh, but he already figured it was the usual intel grabbing then blowing up.

"What you two do best. Get as much information on any future plans and projects, then make sure it's taken off the face of the earth."

See? Told you!

It's what the team of Hawkeye and Black Widow are known for. If a mission was passed to them, especially if it was Captain America; number one 'I'm the one who takes out Hydra bases!' guy on the planet passing it along, that meant it was a job that she could get the info on and he could blow up some assholes.

"Alright!" He grinned, snapping the folder shut and throwing it on the table next to Hill. Natasha stood up and stretched, she didn't seem the happiest about being dragged into a mission but they always accepted these things! "Give me twenty minutes to get stuff done then we can be airborne."

"Never knew you could last that long, Barton." Hill said with a teasing smirk, and he simply shot her a middle finger.

"Just the losers you pick who can't! I'm a stallion!" He grinned, earning a laugh from all three ladies in the room.

Pietro was way too quiet, not a peep from him when Barton thought he'd be the first to offer a snappy retort. He looked to the kid and gave him a slight smile, worried now that the look he had on was because he thought they weren't alright after the incident in the gym.

He ruffled Pietro's hair as he passed, leaving the room then to go get himself packed up. They were fine, they really were. Or, at least, on Clint's end they were fine. He wasn't mad or upset with Pietro. It was just a moment of anger, a build up of too many feelings that needed to be released the only way he knew how. It was just dumb luck that Pietro was the one there to be taken out on.

He'd apologise to the kid. He owed him that much, because really, Pietro did nothing. Sure, he was messing around during training, a time when Clint liked being 100% focused, but Hill could probably tell a million and one stories of a young Agent Barton being the exact same. It was no reason to snap, absolutely no excuse, so he owed Pietro an apology.

Bag was all packed, good old SHIELD issued mission gear was on, so he was packing up some arrows when the knock came on the door, but he was a little busy sorting through his quiver to get up and open it.

"Unless it's Hill looking for a booty call, come on in." He called with a slight smile, convinced it was his boss making sure he remembered some sort of arrow or she needed to give him some special detail he ran out of debrief without knowing.

The door opened and closed too softly for him to hear it, because when he looked up from his quiver to see if the person would come in, he could see Pietro standing awkwardly against it. The kid was looking everywhere but at the archer, and it cause him to raise and eyebrow.

This shy mood was definitely new.

"You've been out a long time, Barton.." He said quietly, Clint struggled to catch the words but he managed. And it had that feeling bubbling in his chest again.

He recognised the tone immediately. He had used it so many times in the past. When Natasha would try rush into a place wounded, when Tony would work until he dropped and it was up to the archer to get him to rest. When Barney would try defend him against their father and he'd try tell him not to, when Steve would get upset over his missing best friend. All those times he'd use that tone, the tone that dripped with worry and doubt. The tone that held the fears he had for those he loved.

"Been out longer, kid." He whispered with a smile, patting the space on the bed beside him when Pietro looked up. "It's like riding a bike."

Pietro quietly crossed over the room, sitting carefully next to the archer then. Clint couldn't help but notice the space the kid left between them, but it was fine. At least he was comfortable enough with him to sit.

A silence fell upon them, and Clint took the time to finish checking his arrows and making sure they were in the right places. He was reaching for his bow to restring when he realised that Pietro's eyes were on him, and he looked to the other man's face to see him smirking at him.

 _Damn that smirk.._

"Way too tight.." Pietro said quietly, his eyes wandering downward. Clint raised an eyebrow and followed his gaze, realising then that the kid has never seen in him the SHIELD sleeveless get up. Just the Avengers gear he used. The comment had his cheeks flushing red. "If you had some muscles, it might be sexy."

"Smart arse.." He growled, though he couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face as he watched his hands re string the bow. If he was back to flirting, then things must be fine between them. _Wait.. Flirting.. He flirted alot.._ "Better looking than you, kid."

"Please." Pietro scoffed, sounding closer to Clint now. Just the slightest, it was confirmed when he could feel their arms brushing against eachother. "You may be up there altight, but not at my level!"

"Yeah yeah. Call me when puberty hits, then we'll talk." Clint laughed, shaking his head before standing to put his bow with his arrows and sling the set over his back.

"Clint.. I know these guys, if all of them are in one place and.." Pietro said quietly, and Barton had a feeling it was going to be one of those 'In case you don't come back or incase something happens.' talks that he actively tries avoid. They were bad luck, so he just put up a hand with a grin to stop him.

"I'm sorry about earlier, kid." He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck when Pietro raised an eyebrow. "I bet your shoulder hurts pretty bad after that knock."

Pietro didn't reply. He just studied Clint's face, and it unnerved the archer a little. He was used to people looking at him, studying him. He was used to people trying to find something written on his face that would give away what he was truly thinking. But this was different, this wasn't like those other stares. This stare wasn't looking at the physical features of his face. It wasn't focused on the lines or pits, wasn't worried about the stubble building or the crook in his nose from the break he never let set properly. This stare was looking deeper, this stare was looking for Clint Barton behind the Hawkeye mask he held on.

 _His eyes._

That had to be the final bit of the raging fire that the kid managed to send through him.

Those eyes that were searching his face right now melted Barton to whole new depths. It squashed every other feeling like they were nothing but silly dreams that would never be reality. This feeling made his knees week, and he had to hold Pietro's gaze so he could burn the memory of his eyes into his mind for the foreseeable future, until he could return and see those orbs again.

Pietro was on his feet a millisecond after Clint noticed his eyes change back to worry, and he was over infront of the archer with his hands braced on each shoulder.

"You with me?" He asked calmly, and it took Barton a moment to realise he thought he was stuck in another flashback.

He shook his head clear of whatever thoughts were there and nodded with a shy smile, moving to grab his mission duffel then. "Sorry, yeah, I'm fine."

"You know, I wonder about that.." Pietro said quietly, causing Clint to raise an eyebrow. He turned back to see Pietro watching him with a frown. "If you really are fine. You have flashbacks, you have nightmares. You don't sleep well, you barely eat. You train, you have such anger, but you act like you're fine around us. I worry.."

"Don't." Clint said through a sigh, cutting Pietro off. He rubbed his face with his free hand and shook his hand. "Look, I am fine. I've been like this for years, kid. Long before you arrived, long before I came to SHIELD, hell long before you and your sister saw me in the circus. It's just who I am."

"Would you trust me enough to tell me when you can't handle things?" Pietro suddenly asked, and it caught Clint for a loop. He knew the kid cared, but this was something else. This was asking Clint to open up and to show himself on a level he was never comfortable with. Maximoff wouldn't have known that, but something must have crossed Clint's face to let him know he hit a nerve, because he was soon over infront of the archer like before.

No words this time. They just watched eachother, regarding eachother, waiting for the other to make a move and do something to break this moment.

The thing Pietro did though definitely didn't break the moment. If anything, it completely intensified it.

His hands firmly on Clint's shoulders, he leaned in, closing the gap between the pair.

 _His lips._

Never mind his eyes, having Clint weak at the knees. Pietro's lips had him weak all over and had every single thought that was in his mind gone. It had the fire no longer just simmering, but running wild and crazy through his body, through his soul, begging for the archer to make a move, to make the moment last forever.

He was shocked though. He was too shocked to do anything. So, while Pietro's lips were pressed against his, there was nothing he could do but stare with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

He must have sensed Clint's hesitation, or realised that his lips were stone and unmoving, because much to Clint's disappointment the kid pulled away.

"Sorry." He said quickly, taking a step back which made Clint raise an eyebrow. "Sorry, I just.. And I.. Just.."

Clint smiled a little in amusement and dropped his duffel bag. This was one of those moments, a moment where he saw who Pietro really was. Not the cocky little speedster who would steal things from his hand as he zoomed past or who'd flirt his way to oblivion, but the shy Pietro who thought he did wrong for kissing the archer, the Pietro who had self doubt and somehow thought he wasn't enough, the kid so anxious that something that was supposed to be as enjoyable as kissing had him apologising in fear of having messed up.

Clint caught his wrist before he could run off and spun him over so he fell onto the bed. In an instant, Clint was over Pietro, hands either side of Maximoff's head and their lips pressed firmly together.

He didn't freeze up like Clint did. He just as eagerly kissed the archer back, his arms slipping around the older man's neck to keep him in place.

This felt right. This felt perfect, actually. This was where Clint was supposed to be. The lost feeling that filled his soul over the past few months just disappeared. He found home in Pietro's lips, in Pietro's embrace. He found home in Pietro as a whole.

He was breathless when a knock came on the door, Natasha's warning of '5 minutes, Barton.' floating through the wood and breaking the pairs moment entirely.

They didn't move. Their faces were millimetres apart, their lips ghosting over eachother and their breathless rasps mixing together. He held Pietro's eyes, searching for any feeling, searching mainly for any doubt or regret at what just happened. But he just saw that same sparkling light he saw each day. Something should have changed in them, some sort of feeling should have taken over and changed how the look. There should be some strongers feeling, or some bad reaction simmering behind them. But there was nothing. He was the same.

 _He's the same.._

He initiated the kiss, he flirted, he made Barton fall for him, he was looking at Clint the same way as he had been for the past few weeks, with those shimmering eyes that felt like home for the archer.

 _He loves you.._

 _You idiot, he's loved you all this time and it took you this long to figure it out.._

"Promise me you'll be careful.." Pietro finally whispered against Clint lips, and it caused the archer to grin and nod.

He gave the kid one more quick peck on the lips before standing up and grabbing his duffel once more.

"I'll be back to you in three days, kid." He smiled, taking one last look at Pietro as he sat up on the bed, his cheeks were flusjed and his hair was a little tussled. That was the image Clint would definitely be taking with him. "I promise."

Without another word, without giving Pietro the chance to make him completely change his mind and decline the mission, he left the room.

Barriers were gone.

Masks were thrown away.

Pietro Maximoff had completely and totally compromised him.

He made his way up the levels of the tower to the heli-pad, finding that Natasha was already waiting in the jet for him.

He'd come back. He'd get through this mission as quickly as he possibly could. He couldn't be away from Pietro for too long, even now his heart ached and they were only two minutes apart.

He sighed and set his head back against the jet wall once he sat down, letting his eyes slip closed as the feeling of Pietro's lips danced across his own.

Maybe loving someone wasn't as bad as he thought.

He loved loving someone.


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry! I had an adventure that involved alot of Southern Comfort, way too much Tequila, and ending up being two hours away from home with newbie recruits and no memories of the three days I was gone!

Next chapter while my muse is awake and not hungover!

MY LOVELY OH SO AMAZINGLY BEAUTIFUL REVEIWERS!

Niom Lamboise; You're close alright, but I plan on being a little bit meaner than that ;) Glad you liked the last chapter, cause I loved writing it!

everfaraway; Thank you :) Glad you liked it :)

Disclaimer; Pietro's mad at me so I'm just gonna run away ^.^'

Pietro; Damn straight I'm mad at you! And please, you can't out run me! *Sigh* I'll do the disclaimer anyway.. She does not own us or anything to do with Marvel. Thankfully.

* * *

Missions were new.

Though this wasn't really a sanctioned mission, not even close to one, it was one the duo had set out themselves to complete.

It was new, it was scary, it was an odd gut feeling that had him wanting to turn the jet around and forget it, but he didn't. He kept flying against the rain, his eyes staying focused on the outside world incase something came at them. He was never as thankful for the archer's training than he was in that moment, because while Pietro scoffed at Clint's suggestion of learning to learn to fly one of the jets a few months back, it was now the little skill that had him rushing to the place his love could be found.

He sighed roughly and rubbed his face with his hands, letting auto pilot take over for a few so he could sit back and relax. Wanda had left him a half hour ago to try get some sleep, but the twins were both a little too worried to rest properly.

Pietro let his head fall back to look at the ceiling of the jet, his mind wandering through the days that had this horrible feeling knotting up his stomach.

* * *

Three days.

That's what Barton said.

Pietro remembers that, he remembers those being the words leaving the archers mouth as he left the room to go on the mission. He remembers vividly because while his heart was racing at a painfully quick pace from the pairs kiss, it had pretty much stopped when he heard the sentence pass through the lips he wanted to have on his.

Not because three days seemed like a long time, not because he hated that the archer was leaving after something finally happened between them. No. It was the way Barton had said it, the structure he was sure Clint purposely used, that's what had Pietro's heart stopping and some fire burning through his body.

 _I'll be back to you in three days, kid._

 _I'll be back to YOU._

Not just I'll be back in three days, no. Barton made a point of letting the speedster know that he was coming back for him.

So for three days, he went on as normal. He got up each morning, he had breakfast with the other team members. He trained so he'd be on point when Barton returned, he helped Tony and Bruce as much as he could around the lab. He wasn't the best at science or anything like that, but with Barton gone the pair had lost their main testing subject, so Pietro happily volunteered to take his love's place.

Each night, he'd hope to hear something. The Avengers always had a radio set up in the living area when one of them were on a mission, that way they can contact them and someone would be around, since someone was always usually in the living area or at least close by so they could hurry to the unit if alerted by Jarvis.

So, each night he waited on the sofa. Each night, when he knew he'd be the only one around the living area with the others in bed, he lay on that sofa and ruined his back in the hopes that he'd hear the voice of Clint crackle through with any sort of news.

The third night passed by, he thought nothing of it. The fourth night passed by, and the knot began to form. The fifth day, night, and the sixth day and night were spent with the rest of the team trying to pull Pietro away from the sofa, away from the radio device sitting on the coffee table, trying their best to stop him from completely panicking each time he'd check the feed to be sure they were on the proper wave length, or check through all the frequencies to see if Barton was being an idiot and using the wrong one.

The seventh day rolled around, and his hope was beginning to dwindle. Hope was getting smaller, the knot was getting bigger, and he couldn't help but worry.

He saw the names in that file, saw who was in that base. The look that Wanda shot him on the sofa over Barton's and Romanoff's head told him that she knew just as well as he did what trouble such high up Hydra agents posed.

If all of them were there, that would mean their divisions and subordinates would be there. Natasha and Clint were good, they were the best. Pietro had heard enough stories to know that without having to be on many missions with them or see them in action all that much. But with five main heads there, and three superiors, that was basically like fighting through and destroying eight Hydra bases at once.

They were good. But there was no way that they were THAT good.

He voiced his concern so many times, so very many times since the third day passed and there wasn't even a little sign of contact from them. But even Wanda said he was just over reacting and it probably just turned out to be more difficult than they first guessed for.

But the knot in his stomach wouldn't go away. The worry wouldn't leave him. Something was a miss, and he knew it was.

"Leave it, kid." Tony sighed as he fell down onto the sofa, one of his tablets in his hand as he worked. His new way of getting out of the lab for the requested time Pepper ordered from him; work on that damn computer tablet instead. He had a feeling he was really starting to annoy the billionaire, but he had to ask if there was any hint of a word from the pair. "They're fine."

"How do you know?" Pietro asked through a frown, not looking at the man on the opposite soda though. He was too busy holding one pad of the earphones to his ear while his other hand constantly scanned through different frequencies.

"Happens all the time." Tony simply replied. The tone annoyed Pietro more than any of the snappy come backs the billionaire would throw his way over the past few days. "They go off the grid sometimes."

"That wasn't the plan." Pietro frowned even more, finally looking at the other man as he spoke.

They were supposed to check in. That was the plan.

"Plans change all the time." Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. Pietro could just feel his annoyance towards the speedster beginning to rise. "They would have sent something if the mission went south. Since they didn't, it means they're off the grid for a reason."

"Well I don't like that." Pietro growled, throwing the headphones down to rub his hands over his face. They were willingly walking into a live hornets nest. There was a strong chance that they couldn't possibly send anything to let the others know the mission went south.

"Your boyfriend is fine. He's been doing this longer than any of us are high enough clearance to know." Tony replied, and it caused Pietro to take pause, his cheeks flushing red.

 _Boyfriend._

He knew the billionaire was just teasing, but something about the word made his stomach knot even more and the worry to grow. They never had the chance to discuss that. They never had the opportunity to have the conversation to see where they stood, if they wanted anything more. Because just as he realised that Clint actually had feelings for him, just as they had the moment, just as he realised that maybe this love could be returned and he could finally settle down to something that wouldn't have his heart soaring each time he thought about it, it was ripped away from him.

Just as he had the archer to call his own, he was ripped away to fight his way through somewhere Pietro doubted he'd return from.

He offered no reply to the Iron Man opposite him. Instead, he stood and sped off to his sister's room, not even waiting or knocking, just going in and going straight to her wardrobe.

Wanda was used to this sort of behaviour. This was normally how he greeted her, never slowing down in the old bases they'd live in, only when inside Barton's house. So, if she was actually surprised by her brother barging into her room at such a late hour, she didn't act it. She just continued reading her book against the head board of her bed.

"Get dressed." He said simply as he threw some clothes at her feet, but she didn't look up at her impatient brother, she just calmly turned to the next page of the book in her hands.

"We are not going to get them." She calmly replied, and he let out an annoyed groan at her response.

No, she didn't even need to read his mind for that one. He begged her enough over the past few days that she just knew that's what all this was about.

"Wanda." He growled, climbing onto the bed to rip the book from her hands. He took her face between both of his hands to force her eyes to meet his, some worried look crossing her own. "You all keep calling me crazy. Just look in my head and tell me I have this wrong. Look and see for yourself. If you think I'm just being crazy, if you think my worries and concerns are just love, then I will drop all this and let them on their own. But you need to trust me when I say something happened."

There was a stand off between the twins, neither moving, neither looking away. He knew his voice wavered from the confident tone to a more worried one near the end, but he couldn't help it. He knew how Hydra worked, he knew more than anyone else in this tower. He lived with them nearly his whole life, he knew their plans, knew their plays. If all of them, all the nightmare inducing assholes he dealt with during his experimentation, were there then something happened. It had to have.

Be it them being taken and currently being experimented on like the twins were, or injured beyond contacting capabilities, or maybe even something as simple as their comms being shot to hell and they're currently trying to track their way back from Europe. Something happened, and he had to let Wanda know that this was 100% something he believed and not just his heart missing it's mate.

The stand off lasted less than a minute before he noticed his sister's eyes turn red. He hated the feeling of her entering his mind, he really did. It was like an uncomfortable pressure followed by something scraping inside your brain with a toothpick. But he'd gladly take the feeling if it meant he could go and make sure Barton was safe.

He would go anyway. If Wanda offered to help or not, he'd go.

A smirk crossed over his face as Wanda narrowed her eyes at the thought that crossed his mind.

"Over my dead body will you be going alone." She growled, shoving him off her bed before standing to get changed.

Pietro threw his arms up in victory with a grin before running to get some shoes on.

He loved his sister way too much sometimes!

* * *

That's what had them on this jet.

They just took it from the roof. Stark really needed some better security systems if they were so easily able to take the aircraft from the pad! It was just lucky for them that they were in the room during the debriefing between Romanoff, Barton and Hill. Otherwise, Pietro wouldn't have been able to take a peek in the file and see what base they were targeting. He doubted calling Maria at such a late hour and asking for the location would have went down well. Probably would have ended with him in a SHIELD jail cell for a while.

They didn't really have a plan. They never really had a plan. This would be the first proper kind of mission the twins would undertake without having someone guide them. During training, it would be their supervisors shouting situations at them and they'd have to deal with whatever would be thrown their way. During the Sokovia attack, they had Tony and Clint guiding them through everything, letting their experiences help the twins know how to fight and what to do. But, since then, they've been basically inactive. The whole team has. Pietro was still healing, so was Clint. Steve was training up some people to take their place for a while, and in all fairness, the world kind of fell into a bit of peace that didn't require the help from the super powered team.

So, this was their first outing.

And he had a feeling they were literally just going to run in and raise hell, because it's the only plan that made sense in his mind right now!

This was where they grew up. Not this base exactly, this one is in a little place in Ireland, some country side area. He remembers visiting it once before. It was easily an hour from any kind of civilisation and one of the few underground bunkers Hydra had. Oldest one of a lot aswell. It was set up in World War Two by the Red Skull for the simple fact that Ireland was nice and neutral throughout the fighting, so they didn't really notice an organisation with really no ties to any side setting up an underground bunker.

That's why it's survived so long, that's why all the main men in the organisation have gone there now to try find some safety, because no one really knew it existed until the files were all leaked and no one really had any cause to take it out over all the major ones in other countries.

About an hour outside of New York, the radio sprang to life with Tony Stark cursing and blinding the kids for taking his toy. But it was his own fault. He had the option of believing Pietro and taking them to get the duo out, he just turned it down.

So that's what Pietro did; he turned Stark down. At least, he turned down the radio so he wouldn't have to listen to the billionaire anymore. He didn't need the lecture of how much the jet cost, or how stupid he was being. He didn't need to hear how much danger they were possibly putting Strike Team Delta in, because in his mind, SHIELD already put them in the worst kind of danger by sending them on the mission in the first place.

He was broken from his thoughts about a half hour out of the Irish coast line by his sister who had come to join him, her hand running through his hair as she knelt beside him. He didn't look at her, but he just knew that she was watching him closely. Twin connection and all that, it was alot closer recently, since he nearly died, so he knew she was worried about him.

"I'm sure they are fine, Pietro.." Wanda whispered soothingly, in their mother tongue, even though he told her so many times he was trying to speak nothing but English so he could learn all he needed to live in America.

"I can just feel it." He sighed, in English, his eyes closing for a moment as he tried pin point the feeling that had been plaguing his stomach for the past few days. "It's like this shooting pain in my stomach and chest whenever I think of them on the mission.. Like someone trying to pull my heart from me but only managing to tug it.."

"Pietro.." Wanda whispered, her tone causing him to look at her with an eyebrow raised. Her own eyes were slightly wide. "When you were hit, that's how I felt.."

When he was hit, he knew exactly what she meant without needing her to say it. In Sokovia, when he was riddled with bullets, that's how she felt.

He frowned a little at what she was implying, her hand was now paused in his hair and the pair just watched each other.

"I can not be that connected to him.." Pietro whispered with a shake of his head, though the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

The times he got the bad pain, the horrible feelings, was when he'd think of the archer, when he'd think of him on this mission. The only times he'd start worrying enough to send his mind into a panic and cause his body to break out into a cold sweat was when he wondered why there was no contact.

It's because something happened. Something happened to cause the universe to tell him that his love was in danger and needed his help.

"I think you are.." Wanda whispered back, a frown set on her face now. Pietro could see the regret in her eyes, never one who was able to hide her emotions from him. She was no doubt feeling bad about not coming on this mission with him sooner.

"We just need to fight our way through." He said with a shake of his head, trying his best to drop the topic they just brought up. He didn't want to think about any of that kind of stuff. The only person he's ever been like that was his sister, the only person he was connected with on such a deep level was his twin. They shared blood, they had a bond that would last forever, a bond no one would ever be able to recreate.

But now, it seemed, the archer he was currently landing the jet in an abandoned field for had crawled his way into Pietro's heart enough to set him on that level.

"Do you think we can?" Wanda asked in shock, watching her brother as he stood up from the control column, the door at the back of the jet currently opening for the pair.

"We have to try." Pietro said with a nod, looking to his sister then. He could see the doubt and fear in her eyes, so he went over and gripped her shoulders gently. "You just knock them out like practice, ok? I'll speed through with you when they are down. We can do this. We have to do this."

She nodded after thinking it through for a moment, and he flashed her a grateful smile before kissing her forehead and scooping her up in arms. In an instant, they were out of the jet, speeding towards where he knew the emergency escape let out of the base.

This was where they were best off entering from. They knew these dungeons, even though never properly seeing the inside this Irish underground base before. If either member of their team was taken, they'd be held in the cells on the lowest level of the camp. This fire escape led to just one level above that, so this was the best place for them to enter by.

When by the entrance, he set his sister down onto her feet so he could push the boulder over the entrance aside. Not the smartest choice of blocking for something that was meant to be an escape, but there was always a boulder blocking them. That way, someone from outside wouldn't be able to get in without either causing an explosion or using some heavy machinery to move it. There was a switch inside that would open it mechanically if there was ever a fire.

He was about to give up pushing, sweat covering his brow and his eyes screwed shut to focus, when he felt it shift. He kept pushing and it slowly moved, all the way to the side.

Shocked when it fully moved, he threw his arms in the air in celebration then turned to grin at his sister in triumph. It quickly fell from his features when he saw her hands slightly raised, a smirk playing on her lips.

"You were getting no where, so I had to move it." She chuckled, patting his cheek as she passed and entered the building.

He pouted a little as he followed, her quiet laughs letting him know she was reading all the curse words directed at her swimming around his mind.

The other upside to using the fire escape was that unless there was a drill or an actual emergency, the thing would be completely empty. They'd only have to worry about enemies on the level they'd exit on and the level Natasha and Clint would be held, if they were actually here.

They made their way silently down the staircase of the exit, descending down to the deepest parts of the base. It was lucky that the doors leading into the little hallway had the floor numbers written on them, otherwise the pair would be completely and totally lost. He never was good at judging distance, so he really doubted he would have been any good trying to guess how far they went down in a pitch black tunnel.

"You poke your head into the room.." He whispered about halfway down the stairway, his mind finally working it's way through something resembling a plan. "If there's anyone there, take them out, then I will grab you and we-"

A sharp pain in his chest cut him off mid sentence, a blinding hot pain that had him clutching the front of his shirt and falling to a knee with a slight yelp. It spread from his chest down through his body, causing his eyes to shut tightly.

It was the point where the first bullet hit his body. That's where the pain was coming from, that first shot he took for the archer was causing all this. He was panting when he felt his sister's hand on his shoulders, the pain slowly starting to subside.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, and in the dim light he met the worried gaze of Wanda. She was kneeling down with both hands gripping his shoulders, her eyes darting all over him in what he guessed was an attempt to find an injury that downed him. There was none, at least, not a physical one.

The pain had ebbed alright, but it now just knotted itself in his stomach like all the other times. Thinking back on the few days prior to this mission, he could see that it would always start in his chest, right where the first bullet entered. Albeit, not as strong. No where near as strong. But it would start there, creep it's way through his body, then knot in his stomach to drive his mind to all new levels of panic and worry. There was only one reason it was stronger, and it unfortunately cemented what they were talking about in the jet.

"They are definitely here.." He whispered with slightly wide eyes, standing up and grabbing his sister in his arms once more before taking off in a sprint down the remainder of the stairs.

He didn't care about making noise now, didn't care about being caught. He needed to get Barton out. If this pain was linked to his pain in any way, then he had no idea just how bad shape the archer was in.

With him running, they made it the rest of the way in no time flat. Like he suggested earlier, he placed Wanda down so she could open the door and peek in. He just stood back and watched as she soon enough kicked in the door and let out a flurry of quick hand movements. He couldn't help but smirk at the thump sounds that followed.

He was never more proud of his sister than he was at that moment in time! Just like he had been training with Barton, she had been training with Romanoff. Steve would always joke that they were creating a mini Strike Team Delta so the older pair could retire in peace, though Pietro doubted himself and his sister would ever be even nearly able to take their place.

His smirk grew when Wanda poked her head in the door a minute or two later, the grin she had on letting him know it was clear to come through. He moved from his leaning position against the wall and went to put his sister on his back.

"You hit anything that moves, got it?" He said with a smile, not waiting for her to answer. He took off running through the floor they were on and towards the prisoner cells.

This was how they practised for all those years. This was their tactic. She'd be riding on his back and he'd run full speed. That way, they can blast through situations quick and she'd have the advantage of that little bit of height to aim her attacks.

Sure enough, as they went through the compound level, she was moving just like they had a million times before. Anything that looked even remotely like a target, she'd fire a blast at, and she'd have this done to ten other targets before the first could even hit the ground. If they weren't familiar with a place, this could never work. This relied on both their knowledge of the surroundings, it relied on her ability to tell the difference between what's an enemy and what's a stand alone lamp since they were really all just blurs at the speed they were travelling. It really relied on his ability to navigate safely around the place, because with her on his back it made banking difficult, made avoiding something or changing his route suddenly if met with something they weren't expecting pretty much impossible.

That's why they had to be trained up. Because this really wasn't a safe option at all in an actual battle situation. For now though, it was beyond perfect.

He skidded to a halt when they made it down to the lowest level, all guards very quickly taken care of by his sister so they didn't really have to worry about them.

He set Wanda down and went to the desk by the wall of the dark floor entrance, grabbing the cell keys so he could bust out the duo when they found them.

"Barton!" He called out, not caring about being loud. If they knew that there was an attack, they'd have sent someone by now.

Wanda was already moving, and he followed, because he knew to trust her when it came to tracking down people.

Sure enough, when they rounded one corner of the floor, Natasha was standing by the bars of one of the cells with a confused look on her face.

The light in the place was low, but as he hurried over to open the cell door, he could see a nice wound on her head and she was definitely favouring one of her arms. She didn't look happy to see the twins though, not even a little.

"You idiots!" She hissed, causing Pietro to pause in his unlocking. "We're working here! What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

"Rescuing you." Wanda said in a slightly confused tone. He guessed she was just as confused at Natasha's anger as he was.

Romanoff let out an annoyed sigh and ran her good hand through her matted hair, Pietro just continued trying the different keys to find the one that unlocked the cell.

"We're fine." She said after a moment. Pietro now felt like he over reacted if the widow was telling him this. "This is how we get information, by making the marks think they have the drop on us. We were going to escape at next guard change and blow the place sky high."

"Well, plans change." Pietro said calmly, finally opening the cell and letting Natasha step out. He looked behind her and frowned, Barton was no where to be seen.

"Where is Agent Barton?" Wanda asked his question for him, currently tearing up part of her shirt to hold against the gash on Natasha's forehead.

The assassin frowned and gave a slight shrug, and if Pietro didn't know any better, he could swear he saw some worry pass over her eyes.

"They came in yesterday and said they were taking one of us to some place called Interrogation three. He refused to let me go, so they took him, and I haven't heard a thing since. No one's even been around to talk to me."

The twins froze up at her words, and the knot that was in Pietro's stomach plummeted until he could feel nothing but emptyness there. Whatever hope he was clinging onto, whatever chance of saving the pair before something bad happened, all of it was gone. Natasha looked between the pair with an eyebrow raised, her frown slowly deepening.

"What?" She asked cautiously. Pietro guessed she didn't really want to hear the answer, not if it was something that had the twins even scared.

He should explain this.

Hydra was known as an organisation that had some specific methods of interrogation. There were three basic levels they used.

Level 1 was considered easy. This was where they were now. Level 1 was basic tactics to try get information, or just to annoy guests that weren't really that welcome in their version of a world. It would involve some beatings, some starving, but never anything too brutal. Usually level 1 was reserved for people they knew to be a threat but weren't bothered too much with. They were usually just left in these cells to die or go insane enough to be no longer considered a threat.

Level 2 was a little more difficult. This was something that Pietro had only ever heard about. As far as he knew, Clint was actually subjected to level 2 before, as was Romanoff. This was the actual interrogation stage, the stage that would be used on targets that they knew had valuable information that they wanted and that they didn't want to wait for. This was done through means of horrible torture, days of sleep deprecation followed by questioning, truth serum injections followed by numbing agents in order to trick the person into spilling, chemical warfare that would have the target begging for death, only to be granted some relief after revealing whatever secrets they held. This was the top form of interrogation they used, and it was reserved for people they knew would always be threats and who they knew would spill great secrets before killing them off.

Level 3 was Hell. That was the only way that he could explain it. No, actually. Level 3 was Hell's Hell. It was the place people in Hell went to if they were bad. While they called it interrogation 3, it wasn't really an interrogation stage. It was an illegal, and unwilling, human experimental stage. From what he knew, this was one of the oldest functions of Hydra. This stage began all the way back in the years of Hydra's formation, beginning with the Super Soldier serum, which in turn actually created the Winter Soldier. Since then, they experimented their lesser known products, their developmental products, on a number of prisoners. There was no doubt in his mind that the serum running through him right now was once tested on some poor prisoner who didn't survive, who knew, maybe a number of them met a horrible faith before he was a success. If you were brought to level 3, the chances of you surviving were basically non existent.

If Barton was brought down there, it meant nothing but trouble. When his eyes met his sisters, he knew she was thinking the exact same thing.

"You two get back to the jet." Pietro said sternly, going to grab the guards that were unconscious on the ground in order to lock them in the cell. "Clint and I will meet you there."

"Pietro.." Wanda began softly, but he shook his head with a growl so that cut her off. He slammed the cell door shut and locked it before turning to send his sister a glare.

"We will meet you there." He said through his teeth, not giving her a chance to reply. He just took off to the upper level he knew held the interrogation room they were speaking about.

He knew what his sister was going to say. That there was no point in going for him, there was no chance he survived, it was just going to put them in more danger if he went scoping out another level. But he had to. Even if Barton didn't survive whatever they were putting him through, he had to bring him home. He had to bring the archer back, otherwise he'd never forgive himself.

He pushed his way through whoever was in the halls, not stopping for a moment as he made his way to the experiment room. He found himself falling into a familiar rhythm, and it was only halfway to his destination when he realised that it was a fighting style Barton had taught him. Some variation on an old Chinese martial art that Clint claimed would suit his quick paced fighting style to a T.

And it really did.

While practising, Pietro hated it. But now he realised it was because during practice it moved too slow for him, Barton was teaching him so he had to move slower than he ever would have. Now though, the strikes were being thrown at Pietro's normal speed, and connecting with a new found power behind them that Pietro didn't know it was capable of. He was ducking and dodging attacks from every direction like it was second nature to him. For the longest time he thought that what Clint was teaching him was utter bullshit, but now, it was saving both their lives.

When he got to the door, he wasted no time in kicking it down. Guns were instantly trained on him from inside the room. It was well lit, a stark contrast to the dark hallways of the rest of the bunker. Five men had guns trained on him, another six were around staring gob-smacked at the newcomer. He paid none of them any attention though, because his attention was solely focused to the chair in the middle of the room.

Sitting tied to it, his arms strapped down, his ankles tied to the chair legs, was the very man that called Pietro here. There was an odd turn to one of his legs, definitely broken. As well as that, there was blood dripping from his hung head, so although Pietro couldn't see his face, he'd guarantee it that Clint was cut up, busted up, battered and bruised beyond compare.

"Well.." Pietro breathed out, finally looking at the men in the room who were now shouting at him. He cracked his neck with a slight smirk. "You picked the wrong guy to mess with this time.."

He could hear the first shot being fired, but it didn't matter. He was a blur around the room in an instant, easily knocking out all the men in the room before the others even got a chance to think about firing their weapons.

The first three he took out simultaneously, both hands knocking two out while the used his leg to kick back and knock out the third. While only on one foot, he spun and sent a right hook across another man's jaw. He ran across the room to another few men, taking one of their guns and letting a spray of bullets fall five more of them. The final two were unarmed, so he would have felt bad about shooting them. So, instead, he just ran by them quick enough to knock them against the walls. The force of it was enough to have the duo down for the count.

He stopped only when he knew the last person was knocked out, taking a moment to survey his handy work. Damn, he owed Barton so much thanks for teaching him some of those moves!

 _Barton.._

He looked over to the chair in the middle of the room and frowned, rushing over to kneel infront of it. He didn't know what to do. Staying here would draw more guards and get them both killed. Moving him could possibly worsen whatever injuries were plaguing him and could kill him. Either way, there was a chance of Barton dying and that was bad.

He decided there was a much less chance of hum dying if he got the archer out of here.

He started undoing the bindings on his wrist, only then noticing that there were some eyes on him. He glanced at Clint's face and couldn't help but smile, though they were barely open, bruised and swollen, and hazy with whatever drugs were in his system, those storm grey eyes were definitely looking at Pietro.

"Don't say it.." Clint started, his voice weak from lack of use, raspy and low, and Pietro could just see a tinge of blood spill from the corner of his lips. Pietro didn't reply, he just kept undoing the bindings and letting Clint continue if he wanted to. "Cause no.. Definitely.. Didn't see this coming.."

That earned a slight laugh from the speedster, which soon turned into a proper chuckle, then a full on laughing fit. He noticed a small smirk cross the archers features at the response, but he couldn't help it.

Clint was here, tied to a chair, battered and broken, and he was still finding ways to make Pietro laugh. Be it on purpose or not, Pietro didn't know. But that didn't matter.

He needed to get Clint out of here and fast.

Otherwise, he'd lose his reason to laugh. His reason to smile. And he didn't know what he'd do if that happened.


	7. Chapter 7

The 7th! Only 3 after this!

REVIEWERS!

everfaraway; Think I had to throw it in at least once! :P Glad you liked the last chapter :)

Niom Lamboise; Weeeeeelllllllllp I don't plan on revealing anything to do with what happened to him for another chapter or two so you'll just have to wait and see! :) Glad you liked it!

Cori; Why do I do this? Because I'm evil and like trying to hurt people :3 I like trying to hurt Clint most of all! :D I'm glad you're enjoying it so much! Cookies are very very much appreciated.. I've been craving cookies for days and no one's bought me any.. Thank you for the kind words! :D

Disclaimer; Natasha; Clint's kinda banged up but insisted that Tara isn't allowed do these anymore..  
Pietro; BECAUSE SHE RIPPED OUT MY HEART!  
Natasha; *Sigh* Because she apparently ripped out Pietro's heart..  
Pietro; So that bitch doesn't own us and she never will now! Because she's a bitch and I hate her and- HEY!  
Natasha; *Muzzles Pietro and drags him off for a time out.* He's a little cranky..

* * *

"I guess you walking is out of the question.." Pietro whispered as he freed the leg that looked broken from the chair, Clint's soft whimper letting him know that there was no way in hell moving him was going to be easy.

"Jus' get Tony.." He mumbled in reply, Pietro was struggling now to catch the archer's words. "He fly us out.."

Pietro frowned a little and shook his head, though he knew Clint couldn't see him. His eyes had shut soon after Pietro freed his hands, his head slumped forward against his chest. He looked dead, and it scared Maximoff more than he'd care to let on infront of the injured man.

"Figured.." Clint said quietly. Pietro's silence must have been a bit much. "Didn't come.."

"Kept telling me you were fine and I was worrying for nothing." Pietro whispered back, carefully taking one of Clint's arm and slinging it over his shoulder. This was going to painful, but it had to be done.

"Well we were.." He chuckled back, but it was wet sounding, and it ended too quickly and with a groan of pain.

"Just sush, you idiot." Pietro whispered frantically, panicking a little now at how weak even that action made the archer. He waited for Clint to catch his breath a little before slowly lifting the man to his feet.

The scream Clint let out nearly had Pietro dropping the archer back down. He couldn't though, he had to get him out and to the jet. He kept lifting, then carefully picked him up into his arms like he had his sister earlier. Clint's arms were locked in a pathetically weak grip around Pietro's neck, and his breathing was heavy and erratic against his neck. Something was already seeping through Pietro's shirt, and that fact was enough to have him moving out of the room and towards the fire escape.

He didn't want to run, couldn't even jog, just incase he hurt Clint more. He really didn't want that. He didn't want him hurt at all, yet he always seemed to be throwing himself into these stupid situations that ended with him in hospital for a nice visit.

"They take your bow?" He whispered to the archer in his arms, and he could just feel Clint nod against his neck. Of course they did..

He would be alone if anyone decided to attack them, he wouldn't be able to fight them off and protect Clint at the same time. While he didn't want to, it looked like he'd have to run or risk getting the both of them into much more trouble. There was no doubt in his mind that an alarm had been raised already so reserves were no doubt on their way.

Once he found the fire escape, he looked down to Clint. His eyes were closed, but the slight movement on his features whenever another step was taken told Pietro that he was just clinging onto consciousness.

"I have to run, Clint." Pietro whispered with a frown, knowing how much this was going to hurt every aching muscle the archer currently held.

Clint, to Pietro's surprise, just grinned up at him. "Honestly kid.. Surprised y'stayed walkin' this long.."

"Well, couldn't have you complaining about a few boo boo's now, could I?" Pietro smirked, moving the archer to as comfortable a position as he could find before taking off up the stairs at full sprint.

He didn't look where he was going, he didn't care if he hit into someone or not. His eyes stayed on Clint's face, on each little tilt of his brow or strain of his lips, of each little movement of his eyes behind his closed lids. He watched for any kind of pain, any kind of struggle, anything that would tell him to slow down or take it easy.

But Clint was a professional. He was a stubborn asshole. He may be in the worst pain imaginable right now, physically and mentally, but not a word of complaint crossed those lips.

When he was feeling better, though, Pietro was sure he'd be in for a whole lot of complaining!

At the speed they were going, they made it up the stairs in no time at all. Good thing too, he could just about make out the sound of footsteps following up behind them. He was long enough trying to get Clint out of that chair, so he knew Natasha and Wanda would safely be at the jet by now. Assuming they didn't get into any trouble, at least. But the pair were as deadly as they came, so he had no doubt that they'd kick anyone's ass who tried stop them!

He slowed to a walk when he knew they were close, his breathing a little heavy though he guessed that was more from the emotions he was trying to keep in check rather than the running. Clint was getting heavier in his arms, and he didn't like that one bit.

"Come on old man." He said softly, the jet finally coming into view. He glanced back down at Clint to see his face alot paler than before, and Pietro's shirt was a lot redder than before too. "Just at the jet now. Stay awake so you can fly us home."

"Told you learning to fly that wasn't a dumb idea.." Clint mumbled, at least that's what Pietro thought he mumbled. His words were starting to string together and were getting a hell of alot sloppier.

Pietro let out a chuckle despite himself and despite the situation. Well, maybe in spite of the situation. Because he wanted to humour Clint, needed to humour him, needed to keep him awake while he got him to safety.

"Wanda!" He called out when close enough to the jet, not seeing her or Natasha outside of the aircraft. "Going to need some help!"

"I don't.." Clint growled against Pietro's neck, and this genuinely had the speedster laughing.

"Ok Barton." Pietro chuckled, shaking his head a little as he climbed into the jet with the archer, Wanda's head poking out of the door a fraction of a second before. "Tell me that when you can stand on your own."

"Clint.." Wanda whispered with slightly wide eyes, but Pietro shot her a look to tell her not to. He was purposely avoiding talking about Barton's condition, not mentioning any of the injuries to the archer just to keep his mind off of it.

It seemed like Natasha knew why he was doing this, because she was up from her seat like a light when they entered into the main area of the jet, but she didn't say anything, she just cleared things off a table so they could put Clint on it. Carefully, Pietro lay Clint down onto the newly cleared table in the middle of the jet's space, the sound that Barton gave had Pietro's heart breaking.

"You're an idiot." Natasha scolded her parter as she started checking all his injuries, and the smile that spread across his pale face had Pietro smiling to himself.

"Well fuck you.. y'look like shit.." He whispered to Natasha, though his eyes were closed so Pietro didn't know why he was saying it.

He looked to his shoulder when he felt a hand on it, his sister gently pulling him back from the edge of the table so Natasha could look Clint over without someone in the way.

"We have to get to a hospital." He whispered quickly, running over to the control column of the jet then to start it up. He didn't know where they were, or where the nearest hospital was, but he'd fly until he saw somewhere and hope there was a hospital near by.

He froze when he saw his hands on the control yoke, his breath hitching in his throat. They were covered in it. The hot and sticky crimson mess he was yet to get used to. Reluctantly, slowly, almost as if he were terrified to check, he looked down at his shirt and nearly got sick. It was worse down there, you couldn't even tell that it was originally a silver shirt. It was just a horrible dark red colour now, glistening as the blood dried into the fabric.

All this came from the man moaning on the table behind him right now. There was so much, and he knew that he lost more before they arrivied, and he was continuing to lose more right here and now.

"Pietro! Get us in the air!" Natasha yelled from behind him, snapping him from his thoughts. He realised he could hear the sound of gun fire, and Wanda was by his side with her hands on his shoulders shaking him slightly. They must have been calling for him while he was focused on his blood soaked self. He ducked when a bullet ricocheted off the windscreen, that was enough invitation for him to get their asses up in the air without a second thought.

He just turned the jet in the direction he knew led away from the coast, not knowing what would meet them, but any sort of town would have a medical centre and that's all they needed right now.

"Pietro?" Wanda whispered by his side, but he just shook his head at her unasked question. He wasn't fine. He really wasn't. He had Clint's blood everywhere, and it had his hands shaking at a near uncontrollable rate.

"Call Stark. See if he can get through to some hospital for us." He said quietly, reaching up to turn on the radio before handing his sister the talk back receiver. If he could get the co-ordinates off Stark then he could feed them into the system and the auto pilot could take them there. Natasha didn't seem in any state to fly, and his hands were shaking way too much to safely navigate through the air space.

Wanda moved to the side to try get in touch with Tony, Pietro just hoped that someone was by the radio to pick up. He realised then that Wanda's voice was the only one filling the cabin now. The moans and whimpers had stopped, there was nothing coming from the table behind him, and it had Pietro flicking on auto pilot to stand and rush to Clint's side.

His heart sank when he saw the archers eyes closed, not as tightly as before. He lost the battle. Natasha was still working frantically around him, using the little first aid kit that had been stored on board to tend to the worst wounds gracing Clint's body. His shirt was cut off and Pietro could now see just how bad he was. His whole torso was covered in blood, gashes and slashes covering nearly every inch of his frame. His face was slowly getting worse, more bruises beginning to poke through, ruining his otherwise perfect features. Natasha seemed to be running on pure adrenaline. Pietro knew her arm was broken, she wouldn't have been favouring it and willingly showing her weakness earlier if it wasn't a damn bad break. But right now, she had to save her partner, so that was out weighing the pain.

He didn't think anything could outweigh the pain in his chest right now though.

"He'll be fine.." Natasha said in a whisper, taking Pietro's hand and using it to apply some pressure to one stubborn wound. He was about to be sick at the feel of more blood, even through the bandage his hand was on. But he needed to help. He didn't know if Natasha was actually talking to him or if she was trying to reassure herself. "He's been through worse."

That didn't help things at all! He watched Clint's face with a slight frown as Natasha worked, she would move his hand every now and then to a new patch. He couldn't imagine worse than right now, but he didn't doubt Natasha's words. He didn't want to think about Clint being put through worse, didn't want to know what worse meant. Right now he was bleeding out after being tortured, in Pietro's view, by the worst torturers around. If there was worse, he was feeling a new found fear towards the world.

"Stark, just listen!" Wanda suddenly shouted, causing Natasha and Pietro to whip their heads in her direction. "I am not asking for help! I am just asking for directions!"

"Should've thought of that before leaving us, sweetheart." Tony's voice was suddenly clear now, and he realised that he was lost in thoughts again and missed the beginning of their conversation. "Not my fault the pair of you are lost."

He glanced at Natasha when she let out a growl, following her movements as she stalked over to Wanda and took the receiver from her hand.

"Tony, you idiot, Clint's down!" She pretty much yelled down the line, the other end going oddly quiet.

"Natasha.." Tony finally breathed out, a sound of something being dropped following. He was by the radio enough to know what that meant. Hit meant he's bad, hurt means they need immediate attention. Down meant he was pretty much dead. When Stark next spoke, his voice was strong and normal again. "I'm loading it into your auto pilot now. I'll call ahead so they're ready. We'll be there as soon as we can."

Before Natasha turned the radio off, they could hear the call of 'Suit up!' being shouted by Stark. Romanoff sighed and sunk down into one of the chairs, with the help of Wanda though. All her fight seemed to have left her now, and it worried Pietro, because he had no clue how to look after Barton if Natasha was about to take a break!

Though, when he looked down at his hand that was resting on Clint's chest, he realised that he was all taken care of. Natasha had worked at such speed and with such precision that he didn't think she could be done, but all his wounds were freshly wrapped, cream on his bruises to ease their pain, and an iv line set up in his hand. He wondered how many times in the past Natasha and even Clint had to do this for one another, he made a mental note to ask the Widow when she was able to talk. Right now though, she had passed out in the chair a moment after she sat down, and Wanda was placing a blanket around her shoulders.

He felt the jet tug to the right, and let out a sigh of relief. Stark worked quickly. He may not like the guy most times, but when his friends needed it, he was the best help there was.

He looked to Wanda who gave him the slightest of smiles, and he knew then that they'd all be fine.

"I don't know how to deal with doctors if they ask questions.." Wanda suddenly pouted, having taken a seat beside Natasha.

"We'll figure it out." Pietro chuckled, looking back down to Clint before placing a soft kiss on the archer's forehead.

Just once they helped out his love, then he wouldn't mind dealing with the questions.

* * *

It was everywhere. There was no getting away from it.

He was given a private bathroom to clean up in, probably so he wouldn't scare any of the general population. At first, he was a little offended, but now, as he looked himself over in the mirror, he knew that it was a warranted request.

When they landed on the hospital roof, there was a flurry of commotion. Before the jet even fully touched down onto the surface, he had Barton's make shift bed wheeled out the door and handed over to the waiting doctors. Then he sped back in and helped a still sleeping Natasha onto a waiting stretcher.

There were looks, there were the ghosts of questions on lips as the pair were rushed inside to be tended to, but the remaining staff members just led the twins inside and told them where to go. Wanda was led to what was called a family room, he glanced in as he passed to see a line of comfy looking sofa's and some vending machines. It was no doubt a place designed for long waits.

He was about to go in but a doctor caught his arm gently and suggested cleaning up first, handing him a set of hospital scrubs to change into before pointing out the private bathroom.

It was everywhere.

At first, he thought that maybe it was only over his hands and shirt, but when he looked in the mirror he realised that he picked up a pretty bad habit, running a hand though his hair whenever he was stressed or nervous. Because while on the jet he must have done it a million times before landing, and that meant that Clint's blood was all over his face and through his silver-grey hair aswell, tinting it like it was some kind of purposely done bronze highlight.

He scrubbed his hands raw in the sink, letting the water run as hot as he possibly could before scrubbing some more. He did the same with his face and hair, he stripped off his shirt and scrubbed his torso, trying to rid himself of the hot sticky feeling.

But it wouldn't leave. The substance was gone, the redness no longer there, just a raw pain over the areas he scrubbed. But the places the crimson mess sprayed just felt heavy, they felt like they were on fire and no amount of scrubbing was getting rid of that feeling.

He could feel the sob in his chest before he heard it, and when that escaped there was no chance of holding back the tears that had been threatening to fall since the second he heard where the archer was. Gripping the sides of the sink with each hand, he leaned over the porcelain and let the panic flood his system, he let the fear and the upset he's felt for the past two hours take control and work it's way out.

He cried.

There hadn't been many times in his life when he cried, when his parents died he did, like this. Other times were like when he was a child and he fell, or during the experiments when the pain got a little too much. Superficial tears, tears that meant nothing to him and just fell out of some natural reflex. These tears started in his heart and worked their way out, draining his soul of all sense of composure and leaving him a blubbering mess.

Sometimes he loved his twin connection. This time was definitely one of those, because when he felt some hands on his shoulders, he knew that it was ok to turn into the awaiting arms. He clung tightly to his sister, his eyes shut and his face buried in her shoulder. She just hugged him back with one arm, her other hand gently running through his still damp hair.

"He's not going to make it.." He whispered frantically, his hands clutching onto the fabric of her shirt for something to ground himself to. "I just got him, and now I'm going to lose him!"

"Shh Pietro.." Wanda shushed soothingly, and he did try, for her if for no one else. "He will be fine. I promise. Clint, well, is a fighter. We're going to be bringing him back home in no time."

"No more missions.." He whispered between his sobs, and after that he just let Wanda hold him until he calmed down. "Never going on missions.."

He meant that for all of them. If this was how something that Maria thought was supposed to be simple for Hawkeye and Widow, and it ended with Clint fighting for his life, then he didn't want any missions anymore. He didn't want Clint in the line of fire, he didn't want this happening again.

He just wanted Clint back. And right now, it seemed like that wasn't going to happen.


	8. Chapter 8

8! Yay! Gonna try finish this by the end of the week if my schedule allows me to!

Thanks for the reviews and the favs and the follows and the sacrifices to the underworld!

Enjoy! :) And review so I know I'm ok!

Reviewers!

Odd's Little Girl; I'd love to say I'm sorry, but I'm really not! :D I'm evil like that, that's why I'm doing this to you! Honestly, I didn't mean to leave it there, but I thought it flowed better and liked it and yeah! I'm glad you're enjoying it and thank you for letting me know you like my work :) Means alot!

Niom Lamboise; Great minds think alike, my dear! ;) All in this chapter! Glad you liked the last one :)

Disclaimer;  
Tara; We good, Pietro?  
Pietro; ... *Ignoring*  
Tara; ...*Holds up a Clint plushie* ...?  
Pietro; O.O *Grabs and snuggles!* Ok! We're good! Tara doesn't own us! Just like she doesn't own this Clint plushie anymore!

* * *

"Natasha's out."

Pietro glanced up to his sister at her words, seeing her holding a small smile as well as a cup of coffee towards him. He took the steaming cup with a nod of thanks before looking back to the point on the floor he found so interesting the past few hours.

She let him cry himself to near exhaustion in that bathroom, and he was never as thankful to have a sister as he was in that moment. She didn't offer any soothing words, didn't try convince him that he should stop crying and be strong, others probably would have but Wanda just held him close and let him get all emotions that needed to break out of his system do just that. When he calmed enough, she actually made him feel more like a child by helping him into the set of scrubs the doctor had given him.

Then they went to the family room, and he was in the same seat, staring at the same spot, refusing to move, for the past six hours. It has to be the longest he's ever stayed still, the longest he's ever gone with his ass in a chair. But he didn't feel like moving. If he moved, he could miss some information. If he left, then maybe something would happen and he wouldn't be here to hear about it or give an opinion. More than anything, the one thing he wasn't about to admit to anyone if they asked, especially since the other two excuses seemed viable enough, he could feel that if he moved he'd just collapse in a ball on the floor and wouldn't move.

Three hours ago, all the tests on Romanoff were done and they were waiting to bring her into theatre to fix her arm. She wouldn't be happy when she woke up, even Pietro knew that, but it was a bad break and needed some bars to help it heal. An hour ago, they got word that Tony, Steve, Sam and Bruce would only be another two hours at most. Knowing the billionaire though, he'd be speeding his way here, so Steve's guess of two hours might be cut in half and they could walk in the door any second.

That was all the information they were given since they got here.

That's it.

Notice something missing?

Every single time a doctor passed, every time a nurse came in to ask if they want anything, he felt like grabbing them and demanding answers. But there's nothing he can do. Over six hours and there hasn't been a single word uttered about Clint. Nothing on his condition, nothing on if he's alive or not, not even a guess at if he's in surgery or not. They probably wouldn't tell him if he asked anyway. They weren't family, even if they were as close as the archer has besides Natasha.

"They moved her to a room and say we can see her when she wakes up." Wanda continued softly, taking her place in the chair beside her brother then with her own cup of coffee.

He gave a slight nod to let her know that he heard what she said, but didn't offer anything beyond that. He had barely uttered a word since they got here, and he could feel the worry radiating off his sister, but he couldn't find any words to say.

He was worried about Natasha, of course he was. But they were told enough about her. Bad concussion, stitches to the gash on her head, fractured arm that needed surgery, a sprained ankle that shouldn't bother her too much after a bit of icing and rest. Her vitals were fine, blood pressure fine, blah blah blah.

All that was going through his mind while the doctor was telling them all this was a yelling voice begging the medical professional to just tell them anything about Clint. The littlest thing. How much blood did he need? If they were the same type, he'd willingly give it. Was his leg ok? Did that need surgery? How about all the gashes? Were there any other broken bones? Did they check for drugs in his system? Pietro knew the list off by heart, the list of all the drugs that Hydra used on it's captives and what they were used for, because he was trained up on interrogation and, unfortunately, did it once or twice before.

But there was nothing. Not even the tiniest of comments.

He was so pale on that table though. So lifeless. He had never seen the archer looking so frail and fragile, it was such a difference from the strong and healthy Clint who would kick his ass into submission each day in training. In Pietro's mind, there was no way he survived. No way anyone could survive something like that. In Pietro's mind, the doctors and nurses were just trying to find the best way and draw straws to see who the unlucky bastard was who would tell the speedster that his love was no longer with them, that he didn't survive. Because he didn't. He couldn't. There was no way.

"They would have told us if something bad happened.." Wanda whispered after a while, her hand rubbing small circles on his back while he got lost in his thoughts. Now that he was out of them, he could feel her in his brain, and he shook her out of it as soon as he realised. He was the only one who could do that, who could push his sisters powers out, and neither of them knew how.

"They should tell us if something good happened too.." He whispered back, not to match her tone or anything, but because he seriously didn't trust his voice any higher than that. "Just tell us if he survived.. Then I can rest.."

"You aren't going to rest until he is back to one hundred percent, and you know it." Wanda said through a slight laugh, and Pietro found himself giving a shy smile.

She knew him too well sometimes.

"Well, he looked after me." He shrugged, taking a sip of his now cooled coffee. How long was he spaced out?

"And you know he won't leave you until you repay that." She said softly, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

That is honestly the most true thing to come out of her mouth today! Clint is stubborn like that. He was going to play the 'Well, when you were hurt I did it for you!' card so much over the next while!

He looked to the open door when he heard some raised voices, noticing from the corner of his eyes that his sister was doing the same.

"Listen here, you damn paddy!" Pietro heard, and he brought one hand up to face palm. Stark wasn't happy then! "They're our friends! We're more than family! So you tell me where they are right now or I swear!"

Wanda was more amused than ashamed if her laughs were anything to go by. He let his hand drop to his lap as he watched his sister cross the room and poke her head out the door.

"Calm down and get in here, Stark." She called with an amused smile, whatever insult Stark was about to throw died off and in a second he was by the door.

Steve, Sam and Bruce were behind him, and they all followed Wanda into the room.

"What's the latest?" Tony asked when he was barely a step in the door, no pleasantries exchanged with the group.

Pietro frowned at the billionaire and looked back to the coffee in his hand, feeling a hand running through his hair a moment later as Wanda took her seat once again.

He wished he knew the latest to tell them, but he didn't even know the basics. He let Wanda fill them in, because she knew more, and she'd be the one out of the two of them to remain calm throughout explaining.

Clint was only brought to the interrogation 3 the day before. That's what Natasha said.

They were one day out of keeping him from going through that hell.

They were one day too late.

Why was that thought only crossing his mind now?

He had been begging the people in the room with him now for three days to go get them. He was telling them for three days that something was wrong, that something in their mission had gone wrong. Had they have listened to him, had they have agreed to help him, then they'd be back at the tower right now sipping on some beer and he wouldn't be afraid that Clint was dead right now.

"Bruce, you have to get in there." He heard Tony say, and that had his head snapping up. If they could get Banner in there, then they could get to know what state Barton was in and he could stop worrying.

He looked to Bruce, who just had a frown set on his face. His arms were folded across his chest and he was rubbing the top of his nose, a pose he's seen the doctor in when thinking something through in the lab that had his brain a little stumped.

"I keep telling you guys, I'm not a medical doctor." Bruce eventually sighed, shaking his head at the plan.

"But you're the teams physician." Tony said with a slight smirk, taking out his phone then to work away at something. "And it will now say on both of their records that you're their doctor so they legally have to let you in!"

"Can he do that?" Steve asked with an eyebrow raised, his question directed to Sam.

"No, but when has that stopped him from breaking the rules before?" Sam laughed, the only one of the new comers to be sitting down.

"Hey, when our team is in danger, we have to help somehow!" Stark grinned, and Pietro could feel the laugh bubble in his chest.

He couldn't stop it from escaping. It came out as a quiet chuckle before turning to a full on humourless boom. He has to help? Where was that mentality three days ago!

"Something wrong, junior?" Stark asked with an eyebrow raised. Pietro realised that all eyes were on him, but he was just struggling to calm down from his laughs.

"Pietro.." Wanda said by his side, her voice holding a warning tone to it. She knew he was about to snap, even without using any connection they had.

"Everything's wrong!" Pietro yelled as he stood, finally stopped in his laughing. He glared at the shocked looking billionaire. "You can go fuck yourself if you think you can just walk in here now and act like you care!"

"Watch your tone." Stark said through clenched teeth, never one for backing down so he simply squared up to the younger man. "We care alot more than you think."

"Is that why you sat on your asses while my sister and I fought to save them?" Pietro said lowly, not backing down from the billionaire, though the reminder that the rest of the team did nothing to help the pair currently being tended to seemed to be enough to make Tony falter a little. "Because you care so damn much. You care so much about them that when someone raised a genuine concern for their safety you just sat back and laughed it off."

"Look, kid, we didn't know things went to shit.." Tony said quietly. A look passed his face that Pietro's never seen on him before. He's seen it on Clint a few times during his recovery, and he placed it on the archer as the look he got when he thought about Pietro taking the bullets for him.

It was regret.

"We would've been right by your sides if we did." Steve piped up, stepping up to try separate the pair currently butting heads. "But they never usually contact. It wasn't enough of a reason for us to go bursting in."

"I'm sorry." Tony said quietly, looking Pietro square in the eye. It shocked the speedster to hear it. As far as he was aware, Tony never apologised to anyone. "I should have listened, I should have been there for my team. Trust me when I say this is gonna haunt me for a while to come. But we trusted the two of them to look after themselves."

"Yeah, look how well that worked." Pietro sighed, feeling the fight leaving him. He ignored Wanda's hand on his shoulder and just walked towards the door. He needed to make sure they knew how much they fucked up when they ignored him, needed them to know how close they were to making sure Clint wasn't fighting for his life right now. "He was only taken yesterday. If you had of listened to me, he would have been fine, and we would be home right now."

He didn't give anyone the chance to reply, he just left the room and walked down the hall.

He didn't know if she was awake yet, or if they'd let him in, but he needed to go see Natasha.

He needed to take his mind off Clint.

She was always the one Barton went to when he was upset or annoyed or any negative feeling really. If she could help Clint, then he was sure she could help him.

* * *

"Was hoping to wake to a different face.."

"Sorry." Pietro chuckled, sitting back down after she finished drinking some of the water from the cup on her bedside table.

When he got to her room, Natasha wasn't awake. But he sat anyway, watching and waiting for any signs that she'd be fine. There weren't any machines to her, just an iv going into her hand, so that settled his mind enough, knowing she was fine enough not be completely monitored. She was lying at an angle so her heavily plastered arm could rest comfortably on some pillows. The gash on her forehead was covered in a thick bandage and he could see the start of some bruises on her jaw forming.

He sat there for two hours. Nurses did come in and out, but they just seemed to ignore the fact that he was here before the time they said he was allowed to be. He'd like to say it was because they were nice and just wanted to leave him with his friend, but it was more than likely because of some threats from Tony Stark to leave him to it. He did hear the billionaire's voice outside a little after he came in.

When she finally woke, he was ready for it. He assumed her reaction would be the same to Clint's when he'd have a nightmare, and sure enough, she sat bolt upright and swung out with her good arm. He had just enough sense in his distracted mind to hold her down a little to stop her hurting herself more while simultaneously calling in a nurse. A bit of calming down, a bit of pain killers, and a bit of water later, and she was now sitting back comfortably with Pietro sitting at her bedside. Her eyes were still a little glassy, but she was just out of surgery so he guessed they would be for a while.

"I suppose I can forgive him this one time." She said with a slight smile, and Pietro nodded with an amused smile of his own. He felt a little awkward sitting there, especially now knowing this was where Clint would normally be. His twiddling thumbs probably gave that away because Natasha would never normally try spark up a conversation.

Then again, the next question told him that she was just trying to get information.

"How is the idiot..?"

Pietro sighed and ran a shaky hand through his hair. He spent the past two hours thinking of Natasha, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath, counting the scars on her arm that he really wanted to know the story to, making sure the room wasn't too hot or too cold for her. He was thinking of her so he wouldn't think of Clint. But now, he had to, and it just brought everything back to him.

"None of us know.." He whispered with a shake of his head, watching the sheets instead of looking at Natasha. "Been here for, what, 9 hours or so. And they refuse to tell us a thing."

"You'll get used to it." She replied, and when he looked up he confirmed his suspicions by seeing her with a smile. She was just told they had no idea if her partner was alive or dead and she was smiling. "They never tell you a thing until they're all clear or dead."

He watched her with an eyebrow raised, not really knowing if he wanted to know or not how she figured that out. But she could read him just as well as Wanda could, it would seem, because she shrugged with a grin.

"We find ourselves here alot. I guess you were only told about me after all the tests and when I was already in surgery. Same'll be done when everything's done with Clint."

"He was in such a bad shape.." Pietro said through a sigh, sinking down in his chair and rubbing a hand over his face. "If we got there sooner, if I just dragged the team out, I could have stopped this."

"It's our fault." Natasha said softly, but Pietro kept a hand over his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at her. "Don't blame yourself. And definitely don't blame the others."

That had him looking at her, his eyes slightly wide. She was still drugged up, just awake after surgery, in who knows what amount of pain, and still she could read him so easily.

"We usually pull this plan. It's a simple one. We get captured, get wailed on a little bit, let them think they have us right where they want us. Then we talk, but we don't tell them what they want to hear. We work around it, by asking them questions, by making them spill and have them thinking they're getting information when really they're giving it. We're usually fine. We were about to break out. I was less than a half hour away from it, and from going to get him out. Our plan messed up. It was our fault, not theirs, and not yours."

"But if we got there sooner.." He started, but she cut him off with a shake of the head.

"I'd still have a broken arm, he'd still be cut to pieces with broken ribs and a broken leg."

Well, at least now he knew he had some broken ribs too!

"So, he was like that when he was taken down..?" He asked quietly, and she nodded slightly in response. He should have known that. They never hurt anyone down in experimentation, so there was no way those injuries were inflicted on him outside of that little cell. The knowledge that, even if they got there sooner, there was no way they could help lifted such a huge weight off his shoulders.

"Pretty much." Natasha nodded, her eyes slipping closed as her head lolled a little to the side. "He's an idiot.. He was in worse shape and he still told them to take him instead of me.."

Pietro smiled a little to himself and looked to the window. Day was just breaking now, and it made the room a little warmer.

"As soon as you can.. Go sit with him.." She whispered after a minute or two of silence. She was just about asleep, and Pietro stayed quiet to let her rest. "He'll need someone there.. I need someone there with him.."

"I plan to be there as soon as they let me." He whispered with the slightest of smiles, knowing she wouldn't fall to sleep without knowing he agreed to look after the archer.

It was moments like these when he wondered what kind of relationship the duo held. They were partners, and held that bond. He guessed that having each others backs so much, looking after each other in the field the way they did, created a bond that was probably on par with the one he shared with Wanda. But they flirted, they joked around, they shared looks that none of the other team members could decipher. They literally threw themselves into deaths hands without a second thought to save the other.

But Natasha was one of the ones who told Pietro to go for it. She was the one joking around about Clint hitting on others in a bar and didn't seem fazed by it. The relationship was stronger than a couple, stronger than partners. He would even go out on a limb and say it was stronger than the one he held with his sister. It made him smiled despite everything that was going on. He knew Clint didn't really have a family. He heard him talk about a brother every now and again, heard him call a name through nightmares. He didn't know details, but it filled his heart with some happiness knowing that he had someone as close to him as he did Natasha. That was family enough.

He jumped a little when he felt a hand on his shoulder. His eyes were closed, so he must have slipped into a bit of a sleep. When he looked around he saw his sister standing there with a smile on her face.

"Hey." He said in a whisper, not wanting to wake the sleeping assassin by his side.

"Clint's doing fine." She whispered back, grinning when he pretty much jumped from his seat and dragged her from the room. She didn't waste any time telling him that because she just knew that it was what he was waiting for.

"What did they say?" He asked quickly, his hands gripping her shoulders as if he was afraid this was a dream.

"He is in bad shape." She said with a sad smile, her hand reaching up to pat his. "But they got him stable and he should be fine."

"Injuries?" He asked with a frown, not knowing if he wanted to hear them, but he probably should.

"He lost alot of blood, that was the main worry." She replied after a moment of thinking. "Leg was broken but did not need surgery like Natasha's arm did. He broke some ribs, has a concussion, alot of bruising."

"And.." He trailed off before he could even start his next question, but Wanda would know what he was getting at.

"They tested his blood." She whispered with a shake of her head. "They couldn't find any drug traces. It must have left his system already, you know how quick they are designed to leave so they won't get caught."

He sighed and nodded, letting his hands leave her shoulders to run through his hair. Clint was fine, he'd make it through this!

"Room 37." Wanda said with an amused smile, and that was probably the one and only time he was ok with her reading his thoughts.

He grinned and kissed her cheek before running off to the room in question, probably scaring alot of people as he zoomed past. But he'd gone long enough without seeing Clint, and he literally couldn't wait a second more than necessary!

He took a moment by the door to take a breath, his shoulders relaxing as all the worry drained from his system.

Carefully, he pushed the door open. His heart sank at what met him though.

Unlike Natasha, there were a fair few wire coming and going.

A heart monitor beeped softly, falling into a kind of rhythm with the rise and fall of the archers chest. He was hooked up to three different iv's, Pietro guessed one was for fluids and the other two were a nice mix of pain killers that were keeping him completely numb. An oxygen mask covered his all too pale face, helping him with the struggle of breathing. He was lying flat on his back, a blanket covering the bottom half of his body, so Pietro could clearly see the mixture of bandages covering his torso. They ran all the way from his neck down, making him look more like a mummy than an actual person. His hands were wrapped up too, and something knotted once more in Pietro's stomach. He hoped it wasn't a break, because he really didn't want to see the look on Clint's face if something messed with his shooting. Though he couldn't see it properly, the lump under the cover told Pietro that the leg that he was worried about was freshly casted up.

He looked like hell.

That was the simple way to explain it!

Pietro silently crossed the room, making it to the bedside without once taking his eyes off Clint's unnaturally peaceful face. He can't remember a time he saw the archer looking so at ease, besides the black eyes and odd bruises gracing his features. It broke his heart a little more knowing that the only time Clint could be fully at peace was when he was doped up to the nines on painkillers and unconscious to the world.

He couldn't find the words to say. Nothing to sprang to mind. Well, actually, a million an one things sprang to mind but it didn't seem to be the time or place.

 _'You complete fucking idiot Clint Barton!'_

 _'Wake up now so we can go home and I can mind your sorry ass!'_

 _'Natasha's going to kill you then I'm bringing you back to life to kill you myself!'_

They all seemed a little to harsh considering the archer nearly died.

He couldn't think that. Each time that thought crossed his mind, his heart stopped and he had to choke down a lump in his throat.

He carefully brushed a few strands of hair off Clint's forehead before leaning down to place a soft kiss on his warm skin. He was too warm, yet too pale. It didn't fill Pietro with much hope at him getting out of a hospital bed anytime soon.

"You'll be out of it tomorrow if they stories I hear are true." He whispered with a slight smile, pulling up a chair to sit by Clint's side. He reached over and took the archers hand in his own, frowning a little when there was no squeeze back. It was just limp.

"You have to wake up soon. Forgetting what your eyes look like." He whispered, again, because he didn't trust his voice any higher. He kept his sights trained on the archers closed eye lids, waiting for any kind of movement.

"Just you and me, old man. So don't worry about anyone else annoying you."

Nothing. He might be here a while.

But that was fine, he didn't mind as long as he could hold Clint's hand.

"Just you and me.."

* * *

He stayed there all day. Not one soul could move him from that chair. No doctor, no Avenger, not even Wanda herself. He was never more thankful for not needing to eat like a normal person than he was at that moment, because there was no way he was leaving Clint's side, even for food.

He couldn't.

He wanted to be there when he woke up, he wanted to let Clint know that everything was ok, that he was safe, that he had nothing to worry about. He wanted to make sure the archer rested, to make sure he was ok when doctors came in, wanted to make sure he wasn't scared and alone.

And he couldn't do any of that if he was down having dinner.

He stayed the whole day, watching the beams of sunlight that were drifting into the room trace their way along Clint's unconscious form.

He had an odd heart beat. Pietro was convinced it was some kind of heart defect that he never knew about. He didn't know alot about the man he loved after all, and getting to know everything and anything about him was one of the things he was most looking forward to when they got home.

But his heart would sometimes beat three times. Every maybe fifteen minutes or so, the heart monitor would sound _Beep-Beep... Beep-Beep-Beep.. Beep-Beep.._ Before falling back into what Pietro would call a normal rhythm. It became some kind of odd time measurement for him as the night approached.

He sat in that chair through the night, not letting tiredness get to him. The others drifted in and out from time to time, bringing him some coffee, checking up on Clint, before drifting back to Natasha's room for a while. He didn't object when coffee was given, nor when a blanket was wrapped around his shoulders.

The next day was the same, though he was forced to leave for a time so a nurse could change Clint's bandages. Banner was allowed stay in, which oddly annoyed Pietro. But he soon took up post again, and remained guarding the man lying in the bed.

There was no change. He just wouldn't wake up, he wouldn't come back to them. He just stayed lying in that bed like the lazy sod Pietro has grown to know him to be. He wasn't getting worse, which was good. He wasn't getting better, which was horrible.

Pietro was up for way too long. He was fighting off sleep come the early evening of the second day, and slowly he was losing. His lids would take longer to open each time he blinked, his head was starting to hurt that little bit more. He often went days without sleep, just to test the limits he could push himself to. But this wasn't a physical tiredness on it's own, this was an emotional tiredness piled ontop of it. It drained his system of everything he had.

For the day he didn't let go of Clint's hand. He couldn't. He needed to know the archer was still there, needed to feel the heat that was in his body to be sure that he was still fighting, still with them.

He would be fine. Doctors assured them of that, and Banner backed it up so that was what sealed it for Pietro.

He just had to wait for Barton to decide to wake up. But for now, he slept. And come the second night, around 11pm, Pietro couldn't help but sleep too, the warm hand still held protectively in his own.

The third day, after he woke up and scolded himself for falling asleep, he was surprised when Natasha wheeled herself into the room. He shouldn't have been, he should have fully expected that she'd steal a wheelchair if they wouldn't give her one.

That was one of the only times he willingly moved from Clint's side, to let Natasha pull up and have a moment. He stayed by the wall and watched as Natasha went through whatever emotions were going on in her right then. She would trace his hand, move her hand along the bandages, move his hair, soft tender movements that Pietro never knew the deathly Black Widow could be capable of.

Eventually, they fell into a nice peace next to one another. Pietro felt weird over by the wall for too long, his hand itching to have Clint's again. So he moved up beside Natasha and took Clint's hand once again, back to watching the closed eyelids in the hopes they'd open soon.

"The two of us are bunked up in hospital, and the gang are worried about you." Natasha whispered after easily an hour of silence, no spite in her voice, Pietro could actually hear amusement.

"Well, kind of been in this chair since I left your room." He replied with a shrug and shy smile, his eyes not leaving Clint's face. "They keep trying to drag me out, but I can't leave him."

"I know the feeling." She said through a slight sigh, from the corner of his eye he could see her run her good hand through her hair. "Though they soon learned they can't tear us away when the other's like this."

He looked to the heart monitor when the extra beep picked up, looking back to Clint then since he just expected it to die back down.

It didn't though, and it had Pietro shooting to his feet. It kept going, the beeps picking up at an unnaturally quick rate. It would no doubt summon some nurses in. He watched with wide eyes as Clint's face contorted a little, his eyes darting from side to side behind his lids. What caught his breath in his throat was that his hand was squeezing the life out of Pietro's.

"He's panicking.." Natasha breathed out by his side, and in an instant she was on her feet, bad ankle and all. He watched as she moved him aside a little, down towards the foot of the bed, so she could move in next to Clint. She placed her good hand on his chest and leaned in close to the archer.

"Clint. It's ok." She said calmly, sternly. He had no idea how she was this, because he was panicking just as much as Clint was! "Take a breath for me. Everything's ok. You're in a hospital right now, in a bad way. But we're both fine, we both got out."

If Natasha wasn't here, he had no idea what he'd do. He took a quick glance at the door and saw two nurses there waiting, obviously realising that Natasha had this more than they could.

"Breathe easy." She said after a moment or two, and to Pietro's amazement, Clint seemed to calm down ten fold. He still had Pietro's hand in a vice grip, but his breathing was slowing down, eventually turning to short breaths instead.

"'Atta boy." Natasha grinned, the way she said it made Pietro think it was a personal joke between them. She did that patronising tone with Clint alot. "Gonna open your eyes or are you avoiding my ugly face again?"

He really needed to take a class from Natasha. He wouldn't have been able to calm Clint down like that, no matter how hard he would have tried. Slowly, his eyes pulled themselves open, and Pietro could see the foggy orbs try their best to focus on Natasha.

"How do I look? Better than Budapest?" She whispered with a smile, and Pietro smiled to himself when he saw the corner of the archers lips try turn up, even though he was still panicking like he did after nightmares.

"Easy Hawk." Natasha scolded when a movement had the archer hissing in pain, his eyes shutting again and his hand increasing it's pressure on Pietro's.

He must have realised that he couldn't possibly be holding Natasha's hand, because his eyes shot open a moment later and landed on Pietro. He thought seeing those eyes would fill him with relief, make him happier than ever. But the look of panic in them, the look of terror and confusion, nearly had Pietro crying.

No one dared move. Not a single soul in the room dared move a muscle in case they broke whatever trail of thoughts were going through Clint's head.

He stared at Pietro for the longest time. Even after Natasha moved away to sit in her wheelchair again, even when the nurse finally crossed the room to check him over, that intense Hawkeye gaze stayed fixed on Pietro.

"But.. You're dead.." Clint eventually rasped out, Pietro barely picking up the words behind the oxygen mask.

He smiled a little sadly at the archer and shook his head, moving back around to the top of the bed so he could take his seat again. Clint's eyes never left him.

"Me? Die before you, old man?" He chuckled, giving Clint's hand a little squeeze to let him know everything was ok, that they were all ok. "Not a chance. I'm living forever."

Pietro watched as a smile tugged at Clint's lips, his eyes slipping closed and three words falling from his mouth before he slipped under again. "Quick little bastard.."

Clint would be fine.

He let that thought circle his mind as the archer slept, Natasha quickly following suit and falling asleep in the wheelchair next to him.

He smiled to himself and brought Clint's hand up, ghosting a kiss across the archers knuckles.

Clint would be absolutely fine in no time.

There was no doubt in his mind about it.

Because Clint was a fighter. It was one of the many things he found himself loving about Clint Barton.


	9. Chapter 9

This chapter took a while for a number of reasons! One; there's SO much in it and I try stick to a word limit! Number two; my head got in a fight with a wall.. Guess who won and guess who walked away with a concussion..?  
So sorry if this chapter sucks! Head's a little messed up but I think I got the basic idea into it!

THANKS FOR THE FOLLOWS AND FAVS!

AND, AS ALWAYS, REVIEWERS!

On that not, Ms. Perry would like the audience at home to know that if you, yes you, there, the one reading this, would like to be featured the last chapter of Probably Saw That Coming like the following beautiful people are, you simply have to review! That's it! No catch! Just review and send the $199.99 post and packaging fee and you, too, can have your name here!

...I think I've hit a new level of weird..huh..

everfaraway; I liked that part, if I'm honest :P I think it was just notes I wrote where it was those lines back to back, but I like that Pietro knows he's fine because he insulted him in some way!

Niom Lamboise; Hope it's updating quick enough for you! Hopefully be finished soon and, I dunno, already have people asking for a sequel, so your request may turn into a mini series for all I know! Hope you enjoy :)

Odd's Little Girl; Ah I wouldn't kill him really! I like to try, but I think Pietro would genuinely murder me if I did! Glad you liked it :)

Cori; Your reviews make me smile! BUT I'M SORRY! D: *Takes feels back and gives cookies instead!* BETTER!? I think your review was a compliment in anyways, so, thank you!

Disclaimer;  
Clint; You calm yet?  
Pietro; *Huffs* She nearly killed you.. I am NOT sorry for my actions or words! And she took her plushie back so she can go to hell!  
Clint; *Sighs* He's still sulking. I'll get him to come around! Until then; Tara still doesn't own us or anything to do with Marvel. Just playing with us!

* * *

They probably all thought he was watching the Hawk like, well, a hawk because he was a crazy in love kid. But he had other reasons.

No one was this fine after experimentation.

No one.

Himself and Wanda included.

But Clint seemed like he was doing fine.

Two weeks they stayed in that hospital. Well, Natasha was released after three days, but much like Pietro, she refused to leave Clint's side incase the archer needed anything at all.

He had his ups and downs. Some days were much better than others. Some days he'd be sitting up and talking to the pair fine, sure his words would slur every now and again, and he'd get tired pretty easily and need to lie down and sleep for a while, but that was to be expected.

Other days, the days after he'd spend the night fighting nightmares, he wouldn't talk. Natasha and Pietro would try everything to get him to. They'd try simply asking if he wanted anything, if he needed something brought in. They'd try get him to talk about past missions or get him to talk about any new arrows he was making. But nothing would get him to. He'd just stare at the sheets with such a blank and foregone stare that made Pietro wonder if there was even a person inside the body anymore.

Two weeks they went through the motions, two weeks Pietro sat in that chair, stealing maybe a half hour of sleep at a time before snapping himself awake. Fourteen long days before they were finally told they could bring him back to America. Tony and Bruce had been trying for it since the day after he woke up, but the doctors in the facility were having none of it.

The rest of the team stayed for maybe only a week, Pietro really lost count of the days. But they just knew that Natasha and Pietro had everything covered. Sure, they barely dropped in while he was conscious anyway. Pietro could only hazard a guess, but he did think it was because they were still feeling guilty about him winding up there. The only others to stay were Sam and Wanda so they could bring the three home in one piece. No way was Pietro trained enough to fly the larger jet home. But they needed the larger jet, because Clint was going to need a bed on the way back to the states. So Sam would pilot them, much to the disagreement of a still pretty concussed Natasha Romanoff! They could break her arm, but they could never break that 'I can do this by myself' mentality the Widow held!

The day before they were scheduled to leave, it was one of Clint's bad days. He was sleeping for most of it thankfully, but that didn't mean that it didn't leave Natasha and Pietro with a tonne of worry.

"Ever think what it'd be like without him?" Natasha whispered by his side, her eyes glued to the sleeping archer's face just like his was.

"Like if he was never here or..?" He asked, unable to finish the sentence because it hurt too much to even hypothesise about. He knew Natasha would know where he was going though.

"If he was never here."

"Be alot more relaxing, I think." He chuckled, her quiet laugh reaching his ears in response.

They fell into a silence once more, Clint's heart monitor softly beeping away.

He didn't mind the silence. He knew Natasha was never one for long conversations, so he never tried push her. It was never an uncomfortable silence, that's all that mattered.

"Pietro..?"

He looked back to the door when he heard his name called, giving his sister a smile which soon fell when he saw the way she was standing.

She was worried about something. He excused himself from Natasha's side, giving Clint's forehead a soft kiss then before leaving the room to go to the hall to talk with Wanda.

"He's not showing healing factors." She started, and he knew then what her trail of thought was going. "He's not showing any superhuman qualities, even so long on. Not even their usual no need to sleep or eat super soldier style is poking through. Did they just not do anything to him?"

"It's possible." Pietro sighed, leaning against the wall by the the door and running a hand over his face. "They didn't have him down there too long. They could have still been prepping him. Remember how long ours took to prep?"

"Ours were different from all others." Wanda replied with a frown, and he nodded in understanding. Theirs took a while because they were willing, they wouldn't try run, so all safety and care was taken. Hydra usually rushed through prep of people they were experimenting on against their will so they wouldn't have a chance to escape.

"Look.." He sighed after the two fell into a silence, not knowing what to tell her about the topic. "I don't even think he has been awake enough to show signs. I promise to keep an eye on him and if some start to show, we'll work from there."

"You need some sleep." Wanda said with a slightly amused smile, her hand coming up to pat his cheek.

He just rolled his eyes and leaned in to kiss her forehead. "I need a run!"

They dropped the topic and he returned to his post by the bed, making something up when Natasha asked about just finalising some travel details. She knew he was lying, he was never a good liar, but didn't call him up on it. None of the rest of the team needed to know what could happen, what could be running through Clint's system right now.

If something popped up, then the twins would let them know.

Until then, it was their little secret.

* * *

It started out slowly.

He should have noticed it, but the actions he should have noticed were just so Barton like that he honestly didn't realise it.

The trip back to America was relatively uneventful. Honestly, himself, Barton, and Romanoff slept the whole way. Barton and Romanoff were probably the ones willingly sleeping, Pietro pretty much crashed from exhaustion!

He tried his best to beg and plead for Clint to stay in the same room as Pietro, even separate beds. But Stark insisted that he stay in his own room for a while, until he's back to kind of normal and not falling in and out of sleep every ten minutes. So, Pietro dragged a comfy arm chair into Clint's room and set himself up next to his bed.

Clint was going through hell, so Pietro couldn't blame him for not really talking. Since he was taken off the strong meds in the hospital, the archer made no attempt to hide just how much pain he was in. He usually did, which means that the pain must be excruciating. Each time he'd shift in the bed, each time he'd move to get a drink, every time he'd chuckle, even sometimes when he'd smile too much, a wince would follow and a few minutes where his eyes would shut and his breathing would take on a nervously quick rate.

Pietro should have noticed something was off the day they returned and Bruce came in to check on him. He moved away from the archer's bed side to give the doctor room to work, and looking back on it now, Clint watched him move with such scared and haunted eyes.

This wasn't one of Clint's bad days. It was actually pretty good. Before Bruce had come in, they were just talking and joking about how Clint would kill for a pizza but how his stomach would probably kill him. Then, in an instant, he went quiet. His shoulder's tensed up and he wouldn't utter a word to Banner, just the odd nod or shake of his head at some questions the doctor would ask.

He should have noticed, but Pietro put it down to Barton being stubborn, never liking to talk about his injuries or what hurt and what didn't.

He calmed down when Natasha came in, mainly because she had a slice of pizza for him and his eyes lit up like he was a child on Christmas morning.

Steve was after that. But this was a different kind of tense in the archer's shoulders. Because it was actually a bad day. It was about three days after they arrived at the tower. The team had been giving Clint space, leaving Natasha to help him recover because she's the master at it by now. Even Pietro left the room for a few hours each day to leave the two assassins alone.

He was always happy to, because whatever they did during that time, whatever they talked about or whatever physio they'd do, when Pietro would return Clint would seem like nothing ever happened. He'd be sitting up on the bed with that smile that made it seem like he never left for the mission in the first place.

But the night before Steve came in to give the archer his bow back, Clint was up all night with bad nightmares. Pietro had to run in at one stage because he actually started screaming and lashing out, and it took everything the speedster had to keep Clint held down so he wouldn't hurt himself further.

So the tenseness in Clint's shoulders and the lock in his jaw didn't surprise Pietro. Seeing his bow would probably bring back memories from when he was taken, and that would make the bad day worse.

After a bit of a forced conversation on the archers side, Steve excused himself when Tony called down for some help from the good Captain. Nothing Pietro or Natasha did could get the archer to turn back around to them from facing the wall for the rest of the evening, so they just let him to his thoughts.

Tony was next.

Tony Stark. He was the next and the last.

The next day, when Clint was testing out his crutches and hobbling around the room, Tony decided to drop in and say hi. He was in a better mood that morning, joking as usual, and even seemed brighter. The bruises were all but gone and the colour had returned to his face, bringing back the usual happy shining face that Pietro had fallen in love with.

Pietro and Natasha were following Clint around incase he fell, because knowing him he would and worsen all his injuries! Really, he shouldn't have been hobbling around until his ribs were a little better, but it was hell trying to convince him to sit still so they gave up.

Pietro was still a little pissy at the billionaire, so he offered to change the bandage on Natasha's head while the pair had a catch up. While he might not like the man, he knew that Clint was actually pretty close to the engineer, so he figured it was ok to leave them for a while.

"Y'know, you can't avoid him forever." Natasha with with a slight grin, sitting sill on the edge of her bed while Pietro cleaned the still healing cut on her forehead. It was a bad gash, and Pietro was beginning to guess more was at play than just a knife if it was taking this long to heal. Hydra were partial to their poisons, so whatever wound they inflicted would last that little bit longer and little more painfully. "He kinda owns this place."

"I know.." He sighed, not meeting Natasha's eyes as he unwrapped a clean bandage. "But until Clint is better, I don't think I can talk to him properly."

"How long will that take?" Natasha suddenly asked, but he hadn't a clue. When he met her gaze though, he knew she meant something more than just asking a doctor opinion. Why would she even ask his medical opinion anyway? He was useless at this kind of stuff. "What aren't you telling us?"

He watched her for a moment or two, a frown slowly creeping onto his face. He knew he couldn't hide it too long from her, that there was something wrong with him, that they didn't quite know what but something was there and they had to figure it out.

Just as he was about to reply, there was a crash from outside the room and it had the two of them on their feet in a millisecond. He rushed to the door and flung it open, noticing that Steve and Wanda were running into Clint's room. He made it down the hall in no time, Natasha on his heels.

He froze at the door with wide eyes at what he saw, hearing Natasha gasp by his side once she caught up to him.

In the centre of the room, both Tony and Clint were on the floor. Clint was on his back with Tony lying ontop of him, the archers arms wrapped dangerously tight around the struggling billionaire's neck.

Tony was grasping at Clint's arms, trying all he had to break the hold he had. But nothing was helping. Steve was trying to pull them apart, but Clint swept his casted leg out to trip the Captain up, sending him down onto his back.

"Clint!" Natasha shouted, trying to break through whatever was going on. Pietro was a little too shocked to move, not let alone speak.

Wanda was the same, a little away from her brother and watching the events with wide eyes.

There was no way in hell they perfected that control..

Natasha's words seemed to break through to Clint, his head snapped to look as she carefully approached. His eyes weren't his. Pietro noticed that right away. They were blank, distant. He could pick Clint's eyes out of a sea of a hundred thousand people, but these weren't those shining orbs. His archer wasn't in there, that much he knew.

"What are you doing!?" Clint growled out, his hold faltering a little on the billionaire's neck. "Take out Steve before he gets back up!"

"Wanda.." Pietro whispered, but she was one step ahead of him.

Clint's arms slowly, reluctantly, pulled away from Tony's neck, Wanda's powers doing their job by pulling them off. Pietro was over in a second to grab the barely moving Tony from ontop of Clint, leading him out of the room. He could hear Wanda telling Steve to follow them, and the captain was out in a second.

Pietro placed a gasping Tony down against the wall and made sure he was conscious before turning to Steve, who was now kneeling down to check on his just assaulted friend.

"Get Banner. We'll meet you all in the living area in a minute." Pietro said sternly before moving back to the room, closing the door behind him.

Wanda and Natasha were in the middle of calming Clint down. He was sitting in the middle of the room, his hands clutching his head while Natasha knelt next to him and rubbed small circles on his back. He was fighting something, and Pietro hated what it was.

Wanda approached her brother and they moved in close so they could talk privately.

"I thought control was still being developed.." She whispered with a worried frown, her eyes not leaving Clint.

"We've been gone a long time, Wanda.." He whispered back, watching as Clint shook his head at something Natasha asked. "They must have done something right.."

"I have no clue how to fight this, Pietro." Wanda frowned, and he simply nodded.

He had no idea either, but they'd have to figure it out.

He pulled his sister into a one armed hug and kissed the side of her head. He could tell this upset her. It was her powers that helped develop this kind of experiment, her insight into the human mind allowing the Hydra scientists to pretty much perfect it.

He moved over to Barton when they locked eyes, hunkering down infront of him with a soft smile. Natasha was still rubbing his back, but he could feel her gaze on him instead as he spoke to Clint.

"It'll be alright Clint, I promise.. Just.. How long have you been fighting this?" He whispered to Clint with that same smile, his hand giong up to stroke his cheek gently. He was too tense, to worked up, he needed to relax, and Pietro was needing to know what was going on in his mind.

His eyes were Clint again, at least. They were back to his normal steely goodness that just screamed Clint Barton. Something flashed across them though, something so quick that Pietro couldn't figure it out. But he assumed it wasn't good, because Clint frowned.

"Since I woke up.." He whispered back, something in his voice straining. Wanda was by her brothers side then. Clint looked between the two. "You know what's happening to me?"

"We think we do." Wanda answered with a nod, but it didn't seem to settle Clint. If anything, it made his frown deepen. "You mind if I take a look?"

Clint flashed a look to Natasha and his partner nodded with a little smile. She knew that Wanda wouldn't do anything to make the archer worse, wouldn't hurt him. She just needed to see if their suspicions were right. After a moment of looks between the assassins, Clint looked back to Wanda and nodded.

"You want to lie down for it?" She asked with a smile as she stood up, Pietro followed suit to help Clint to the bed. "Just incase I hit on something I'm not meant to and it hurts."

Clint, after consulting Natasha once more, nodded and let Pietro help him to the bed. He let Clint lie down before giving the archer's forehead a soft kiss. The little smile Pietro got in response melted his heart.

"Some beer after this?" He whispered to Pietro, giving the speedster a smile of his own.

"When you're off the pills, or at least some of them. I promise, you can get piss drunk and I promise not to take advantage of you.." He whispered back, ruffling Clint's hair a little. He was nervous, confused, as he should be. Something going so wrong in your mind would have anyone panicking like crazy.

"Awh.. Kinda wanted to be taken advantage of.." Clint pouted, quickly smirking up at him then. It was like all the other times. Now Pietro could piece it together. He'd go into a bad place while the others were around, but once they left he slipped right back into normal Clint mode.

He just rolled his eyes at Clint's comment then moved away to give his sister some room, going to stand next to Natasha. Once Clint's eyes were closed, and Wanda was fully focused, only then did Romanoff speak.

"Can you tell me now?"

"You're oddly calm.." Pietro said through a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he watched Clint's face for any sign of discomfort.

"I was expecting something worse, if I'm honest." She shrugged, but he knew better than to ask why she thought that way. "I mean, even after a good mission I sometimes feel like choking Stark."

Despite what was happening, Pietro found himself laughing. He didn't know how they could do that, Clint and Natasha. He didn't know how they could take such a serious situation and make a joke out of it. But it's their job, he guessed. They're always in serious situations. So what he finds serious, they may find normal.

"I only have a guess right now." He replied softly, shrugging a little himself since he really couldn't offer anything right now. "I can tell you when I tell the others."

Clint's eyes didn't open even when Wanda straightened up, and she turned with a sad smile to the pair by the wall.

"He wore himself out." She said softly, and it gave Pietro a little smile. "He's fast asleep and happily dreaming."

"And?" Pietro pushed gently, his smile falling when she simply nodded her head.

Shit..

He looked to Natasha and nodded in direction of the door, and the three left the sleeping archer to move silently to the living area Pietro told the others to wait in.

This was going to suck..

When they got there, the team were all waiting. Banner and Pepper were by Tony who was lying on one of the sofa's. Banner was giving him a check over while Pepper was holding an ice pack under his neck. Steve and Sam were just off to the side, talking quietly. All bar Stark looked up to the three of them when they stepped closer.

"Anyone know what just happened?" Steve asked with a frown without wasting a moment, his arms folded across his chest.

Pietro looked to Stark, needing to know one last thing before they could say for certain. "I don't mean in an attack way, but, did you touch him?"

Tony opened his eyes and looked up at Pietro, thinking for a moment before nodding. "I checked his temperature.. He looked flushed and I was worried."

Pietro frowned and turned to Wanda who was by his side, Natasha had moved over to sit on the arm of the sofa. She was limping, she might have strained herself a little too much.

"He was fighting as long as he could.." Pietro whispered, not wanting the others to hear just yet. "None of them touched him yet, even Banner kept his distance when checking him.. Stark was the first.."

"Which is why he attacked.." Wanda nodded, understanding what Pietro was getting at.

"You two gonna fill us in?" Sam asked impatiently, causing Pietro to look at the group.

He sighed and ran a hand over his face, not knowing where to start.

"Clint was brought to the experimentation section of the Hydra base." He finally said, deciding to start from the beginning. "The place where we got our powers. The place I'm still shocked he survived."

"We didn't know if anything was done to him." Wanda continued, her hand on Pietro's shoulder to give it a little squeeze. "He wasn't showing any signs of powers or changes."

"Until now." Steve cut in, his frown deepening. Pietro nodded, the rest of the group giving the twins their complete and undivided attention. Even Stark who looked like he was about to pass out.

"Before we left, there was a technique in development. They were calling it the Suicide Bomber. Worse than it sounds.." He sighed out the last four words when shocked eyes looked at him. Wanda had fallen silent. She hated this one more than any of the others. "Strucker was hoping to take one of the Avengers to try it out on, but the opportunity never arose. Now, I guess his co-workers took the chance during his.. Well.. Absence."

"So, what does it mean?" Banner asked carefully, causing Pietro to frown and run a hand over his face once again. He was going for a run after this, he needed a run after this, if Clint didn't need him that is.

"They wanted to design it so that if an agency was after them, they could take maybe two or three agents and turn them into their weapons.." He said quietly, watching the floor so he wouldn't have to look at the team in front of him anymore. "They drug the person up to inhuman levels with a horrible cocktail of things. Then they play on their fears. They use the memories of team mates, of loved ones. They get inside the head and manipulate the persons thoughts.."

"Sounds familiar.." He heard Tony grumble, and he sent the billionaire a glare. He just held his hands up in defence. "I'm just saying! I had someone play with my thoughts and fears alright."

"This is different." Pietro continued after Wanda rubbed his back, letting him know Stark's comment was fine with her. "They manipulate the good memories as well as the bad memories so they're linked with fear, with danger. The person should be fine until they see whoever it is they're programmed to kill, then they attack like Clint did in there. Once the mission is over, they kill themselves so they can never sell out Hydra to whatever authorities come asking."

"So, he was sent to kill Tony?" Pepper asked from her man's side, but Pietro thought that it was a little more than that. He turned to his sister for the answer. She was the one inside Clint's head after all.

"All of you." Wanda simply replied, her arms folding across her chest like she did when she was upset. "I took a look at his fears, and it is associated with everyone except me, Pietro and Natasha. I can't figure that out."

Pietro, Natasha, and Wanda..

That even had Pietro stumped!

Of all the three to be excluded, why those?

"Well.." Banner started, clearing his throat a little then. "He asked Natasha for help, and she was taken aswell.."

"You think they were going to do the same to me?" Natasha asked with an eyebrow raised, her frown present through this whole conversation. Pietro made a mental note to talk to her later and see if she was alright.

"It makes sense.." Sam nodded, watching a spot on the floor as he thought. "Why only send one in to attack us when they can send two? And they couldn't have him attacking her, otherwise they'd both off eachother before they off their targets."

"So what about the twins?" Tony asked, lying down once more with his eyes closed. His neck was beginning to sport a nice bruise now.

"They wouldn't know we're here." Wanda said after a moments silence, her attention on Pietro now. "If they did.."

"Then they'd have sent people to take us out ages ago.." Pietro finished with a nod of understanding, the others seeming to have their confusion lifted too. "They didn't know he had memories of us.."

"And I'm pretty sure they still think you're dead." Wanda smiled a little sadly. If he didn't know how to take the news that Clint was this bad, then he could only imagine how she felt knowing she helped do it, in a round-a-bout way.

"Well not anymore." Natasha chuckled, and he smirked a little. There was no way they missed the fact that someone was ripping through their base at a literal blinding speed.

"So, what do we do?" Steve asked to break the joke before it started. "If he wants to kill us, how safe are we?"

"Right now he's broken. He nearly choked me out alright, but that wasn't Barton's style.." Tony said quietly, a thoughtful frown crossing his face. Everyone stayed quiet so he could continue. "He was sloppy, he wasn't on his feet like he normally would be. I know he has a cast, but you know what I mean. Instead of going for the take down, why didn't he break my back? Instead of choking me, why didn't he snap my neck?"

"He's fighting it." Pietro offered as way of an explanation, the only one he could think of anyway. "The control is strong, you and Steve saw his eyes. But he's fighting it. He doesn't want to kill you."

He wouldn't want to. He never even wants to kill those who deserve it. He always told Pietro during training to never kill, only if 100% necessary or if it's actually mission stated.

"That doesn't answer what we do though." Steve pushed, but Pietro was at a loss with that one. He hadn't a clue.

"He needs time." Wanda said with a smile, surprising even Pietro. "His memories are still there. He can think about you all just fine, it's only when he sees you the link kicks in. If the link was always there, he'd be too scared to even get close enough to try kill you. Just give him time to realise those links are false and he'll be just fine."

"He's in a tower with us. Can't really give him space to work this out." Tony said with a shrug, wincing at the pain it obviously caused. Pepper just replaced the ice pack to ease his discomfort.

He felt eyes on him, from multiple directions. He looked first to his sister who held a small smile, then to Natasha who sent him a slight shrug. He was spending way too much time with the pair since he knew exactly what they were suggesting. He just sighed and nodded his approval of the plan.

"We'll take him to the farm." Natasha said once she knew Pietro was on board, looking at the other team members. "Let him heal physically and mentally. You guys drop by maybe once a week or something, give him the time he needs."

"There aren't many doctors around there.." Bruce said pretty quickly, and that was a pretty big worry of Pietro's too now that he mentioned it!

"We'll be fine." Natasha smiled, standing them since she, apparently, had last say in the matter. "He only needs painkillers now. I can drive for them. And if he gets bad, you can talk me through things on the phone."

She turned and walked back in the direction of Clint's room then, the matter decided.

Honestly, he loved the idea.

He missed the farm!

* * *

This was nice.

This was how things should be, when he thinks about it.

Waking up with someone you love in your arms, sunlight streaming in though the window. It was a little chilly, the window being opened and all, and his current shirtless attire didn't help the fact, but he had to because the other male in the room got too warm at night recently, so the little breeze the Iowa hide away sent through the room always helped him sleep.

Pietro definitely loved this place. He could see now why Clint bought it all those years ago. It held such a relaxing atmosphere that, no matter the situation in your life or the troubles that were going on, made it so every fibre of your being relaxed completely.

He glanced down at Clint and smiled, the archer still fast asleep in his arms. He had one arm around Clint's shoulder while his head rested on Pietro's chest. One arm tucked safely under his chin while his other was draped lazily across the speedster's stomach. Pietro let his free hand trace small patterns on the back of Clint's hand as he listened to his love's steady breathing. This is how it should always be, and how it was for the past while.

They never started like this really. Pietro had his own room he stayed in each night, right next to Clint's. The past three weeks while he was recovering from everything, Pietro was on what Natasha called night watch. Clint apparently had a habit of getting up and leaving when he was strong enough to after an injury set back. And since Pietro would be up most nights anyway, he was set on watch. So, he'd lie in his room listening out for the archer if he needed something.

After the attack on Stark, the nightmares were a constant for Clint now. Each night, his mind would think up something horrible for the archer to experience. Each night, Pietro would hear the tossing and turning, the mumbles, then finally the shouts letting him know that Clint's mind was not a safe thing to leave alone. So, each night, he'd start out in his own room, but end up in Clint's bed, comforting the upset archer until he fell back asleep, then falling asleep with Clint in his arms.

He seriously didn't mind. He loved it, in fact!

He noticed, maybe the fifth or sixth night this little ritual occurred, that Clint didn't have nightmares after calming down and sleeping again. He would never bring it up with Barton though, but he wondered if all he needed was to know someone was there to help him.

He placed a soft kiss on top of Clint's head and closed his eyes once again, just to relax. it was only a little after 9am. Clint wouldn't wake for another hour at least. They weren't waking him the past few weeks. The more rest he got, the better, and Pietro didn't mind lying there with him.

He glanced down at the cast when it hit off his leg, the archer stretching out a little before nuzzling Pietro's chest and settling again. He was getting better, faster on the crutches, concussion nearly gone, stitches out, though he was right in saying that Hydra were assholes and used some poison to keep the wounds healing right. He still had bandages around his torso and Natasha still had one around her forehead to keep the wounds bleeding out with movement. It would take time, but that didn't matter, because all that any of them cared about was that Clint's mind was starting to come back to his own.

That doesn't mean he didn't have his moments. But he was trying. Natasha would sit him on the decking on the sunny days, sipping beers with him and the twins and having Clint tell stories about the team with her. His eyes lit up with each tale, some involving the team, others just himself and Natasha. When someone would come and visit though, deciding it be better to go single file rather than all at once, his shoulders would tense and Pietro would notice that his mind would have a battle with something, some inner voice trying to order him around.

He fought it though. Each time, the same would happen. They were trying to reconnect all the happy memories, trying to push whatever mind control was left out. So whoever was over, whichever member of the team was by that day, they'd bring Clint a pizza, they'd build a fire, and everyone would sit around drinking and joking for the night. As time went on through the evening, Clint's shoulders would relax. He'd smile more, sometimes he'd even laugh. He was always by Pietro's side though, never going near the team member. But it was a step in the right direction. It would go back to being the exact same each time though. It was like he'd revert back to the old way the next day. But one day they started counting the time from when the team mate would enter, and he was coming around to them quicker with each visit. Hopefully soon, the fear will be gone completely.

"You're thinking too much.." Clint mumbled against his chest, earning a surprised smile from Pietro. The archers sleepy eyes met his a moment later. "What's wrong?"

Loaded question.

"Go back to sleep, you idiot." He chuckled, leaning down a little to kiss the tip of Clint's nose. But he just pouted at Pietro and started to sit up.

"Not until you tell me what had your heart thumping." He mumbled through his pout, giving up on moving to instead nuzzle Pietro's chest once more. The speedster much preferred the latter.

That one wasn't a loaded question. Thinking of Clint always had his heart thumping.

"How are you feeling today?" He whispered after a moment of silence, his hand gently rubbing Clint's upper arm when he felt the archer tense.

Loaded question.

"Less sore." He whispered back after thinking for a few, his finger lazily tracing one of Pietro's scars. It made his breath catch in his throat a little.

"Well, little victories." Pietro whispered, hoping Clint wouldn't catch the hitch in his voice. Though, the chuckle the archer gave told him his hopes wouldn't follow through.

"Am I distracting you?" He whispered back, though Pietro couldn't see he just knew Clint was smirking.

He refused to answer, hoping that he'd give up, but when he didn't get a response, Clint placed a soft, slow kiss to the scar he was tracing.

The laugh he gave when Pietro jumped was something he hasn't heard from Clint in a long while, and it made him nearly smile.

Nearly.

Because instead, he pouted at Clint with as hard eyes as he could muster. It was difficult when Barton was sitting cross legged next to him now, well as cross legged as he could with a giant cast on one of them, laughing at the reaction he earned. Pietro just wanted to wrap him up in his arms again and laugh along.

"I'm sorry! I know how sensitive they are!" Clint eventually said, though it was through his laughs.

"You're lucky you're cute." Pietro growled, letting his arm fall over his eyes to hide away from Barton.

"Wait until I'm better. I'll knock that 'Cute' thought right out of you." Clint said lowly, and Pietro could feel his weight shifting. He sat up on his elbows and looked to see the archer moving off the bed, a slight smirk on his lips.

Those sly little comments would be the death of Pietro..

He didn't know how to take them though. They cuddled, they kissed, they were practically inseparable, they even shared a bed for the past while. But still, Pietro had no idea where he stood with Clint.

"Quit thinking." Clint said softly, though his back was to Pietro. He was supporting himself on one crutch, facing the wardrobe as he pulled on a shirt. Pietro stopped offering to help last week when something was thrown at his head. Clint didn't like feeling useless, but Pietro wanted to help. He needed to help.

"You sure they didn't give you some super power, old man?" Pietro asked with an eyebrow raised. Every time he thought of something that would get to him, Clint would know and ask about it.

"I just know you." He shrugged, hobbling back over to sit on the edge of the bed. He smiled at Pietro and offered him his hand. "Spill."

Pietro frowned slightly and took Clint's hand, linking their fingers together and watching them as he tried think of the best way to word things. It was a tricky thing to bring up so early in the morning.

"What are we doing?" He whispered after a moment or two, a little too lost watching Clint's thumb stroke the back of his hand.

"Relaxing in bed, I thought." Clint replied, his tone curious. Pietro shook his head a little and finally looked up to meet Clint's eyes.

"Me and you.. What is this whole thing?" He said a little louder, indicating to their joined hands.

Clint gave a soft smile and shrugged, kissing Pietro's hand softly before standing with his crutches once again.

"Don't know what it is where you're from, kid. But here, it's called holding your boyfriend's hand." Clint said as he made his way to the door. He paused at it and looked back to smile at Pietro. "Get dressed. I love you topless alright, but I don't think Wanda and Natasha do."

He left without another word, leaving Pietro staring shell shocked at the door he hobbled through.

 _Boyfriend_.

He saw Pietro as a boyfriend.

He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face, letting himself fall back down against the pillow then with his hands over his face.

That's all he wanted to know.

He could live with nothing else in the world, no money or food,no shelter or home to call his own. Just once he had Clint Barton as a boyfriend, he could live just fine!

* * *

"Need a top up?"

He looked up at the voice and smiled, nodding a little before holding his mug out towards Natasha. She was standing by the decking door with a coffee pot in hand and a smile on her face. She seemed relaxed here just as much as Barton did.

"You're turning into a right young Hawkeye, you know." She teased with a smile as she filled his mug back up, his cheeks going a little red at the comment.

He looked from his position on the bench to where Clint was in the garden, tinkering with the broken tractor sitting in some grassy area. It was a project for him, each day he'd go spend an hour after breakfast on it. No one objected.

"He will wear himself out." He said with a shrug, sipping from his coffee before sighing happily at the feeling the warm liquid gave. She made some damn good coffee! Natasha moved to sit next to him on the bench. "I just need to make sure he doesn't pass out over there."

"He's been through worse, Pietro." Natasha said softly. The amount of times he's heard that now must be in the billions!

"So you keep saying." He sighed. Every time she said it, it killed him a little more. Because worse than this was just horrendous.

"Because you keep worrying." She laughed, ruffling his hair a little when he looked to her. "He's been shot, blown up, tortured, scarred beyond belief. Trust me when I say, to us, this is nothing but a little set back."

"He's trying to kill his team." He whispered with a slight frown, not knowing how she was so easy going about this. "That's more than a little set back."

"He obviously never told you about Madrid.. Or Budapest, Slovakia.. Or New York for that matter." She shrugged, looking back out to the archer in the garden, coffee pot abandoned on the ground beside her. "It's not the first time we've tried kill each other. Won't be the last. But we always get past it."

He really needed to ask Clint about this stuff..

He heard a few missions, during the times they'd try get Clint to talk about his past to try bring up happy memories. But he never heard about the bad ones. He was really curious about New York. The way they always spoke about it, and from the few reports he could find mentioned Clint alot. But it was like taboo. Something that just wasn't to be spoken about around Barton.

"We need a movie night." Natasha suddenly said, grinning at the idea she just had.

"Well he has some dvds in there. We can put one on tonight. Wanda and I have not seen many, but you and Clint can pick a good one, I'm sure." Pietro smiled, shrugging then before looking back to Clint.

"I mean all of us." She replied, giving him a slight shove.

"Think he's ready?" He asked softly, watching as Clint grabbed one of his crutches and used it to help him stand up.

"Fixing old memories is going slow." She sighed, quiet for a moment but he stayed quiet too because he knew she had more to add to that. "It's working, but barely. So we need to start building new ones."

He hated that it made sense, he really did. Because he didn't want to push Clint.

"I don't think we can tell him about it." He finally said, knowing full well the archer would refuse it and lock himself in his room.

"I know. I don't like tricking him, but I think the team needs a night to just do nothing."

He nodded, smiling a little when he saw Clint hobbling over their way. He stood and finished off his coffee before smiling down at Natasha.

"Get them tomorrow. Steve would have been coming over anyway." He said with a smile, both of them dropping it then since Clint was hobbling up the stairs of the decking.

"Alright kid. Let's get these bandages changed so I can sleep for a while!" Clint smiled as he approached, a little out of breath from the effort of making it that far.

"You're such a baby with this." Pietro laughed, holding the door open so Clint could hobble through. He followed after him towards his room then.

"Well it hurts." Clint huffed out, the tone telling Pietro that he was pouting even though he could only see the back of the archer's head.

"It can not be that bad." He laughed, patiently following Clint up the stairs. It was difficult for him to do at first but he was getting quicker at it. Pietro really hated that there was no downstairs room to make the archer's life a little easier.

"Get me a knife, I'll cut you open, and see how you like alcohol burning it each morning!" He growled, shooting Pietro a little grin though when the speedster went to open the bedroom door, his way of letting Pietro know that he was only joking around.

He let Clint hobble in and took a moment outside the room to himself. He let a frown cross his face, just to get it out of his system so the hawk wouldn't notice and worry.

He was doing so well now. He was happy, relaxed. He was Clint.

Hopefully having him bombarded with the rest of the team wouldn't set him back. Because he was finally getting his Clint back, and he couldn't lose him again.

He sighed softly to himself and entered the room, closing the door softly behind him to lock them away from the world for a while.


	10. Chapter 10

Alright guys! Thanks for the love! This is the last chapter, but a little birdie, or 73 of them, ok more like 3, tell me there'll be a sequel. So, apparently, there'll be a sequel!

Reviewers!

Niom Lamboise; Thank you for the idea my dear! Seems to be catching fire a little bit and I promise you'll love the next one :) Hope this is a nice last chapter for you! :)

BanditFox; Nope. No sequel. You didn't hear such a thing. Nope nope nope! Don't have another idea in mind for it! (Can so totally lie..) I'm glad you liked it and thanks for the compliments :)

TheGalliumKnight; Keep an eye out ;) That's all I'll say on that matter! Glad you liked it :)

Odd Little Girl; I get like that sometimes. But then I'm like 'Dammit! Can't update without logging in!' and then I have to remember my password and it's just a hassle! I'm glad I can make you happy with my little story! I hope the last chapter continues with that trend! Head's doing alright now though, thank you! Just a bad migraine every now and again! Honestly, ever need to know what it's like for a story or something, being concussed honestly feels like being drunk for a week! Enjoy this one! :)

DISCLAIMER;  
Pietro; Alright.. I suppose she's alright.. Though I'll hold my thoughts on her off until the end of this chapter and this sequel is done..  
Clint; That's all I ask! The lovely StumpyTPDimples who tortures me so many many times doesn't own us or anything to do with Marvel!  
Pietro; *Mumbles* The bitch..  
Clint; *Facepalm*

* * *

"Fucking ouch!" Clint basically yelled, jumping from the bed a little at the stinging feeling.

He hated this feeling! But the laugh it got from Pietro seemed to make it worth it. He pouted at the speedster nonetheless.

"Baby.." Pietro whispered under his breath with a smirk, dabbing the gashes on the archers chest once more with the alcohol wipe.

He hadn't a clue why they weren't healing. Natasha and Pietro said something about poison when he asked, but he just can't figure that out. All he knows is that it hurts like hell and Pietro seems to get way too much joy out of cleaning them!

"Do I get a sponge bath after this?" Clint asked with a smirk, loving how it made Pietro's hands pause in their work for a moment. He could dish out his teases and flirtations like no one else, but when he's on the receiving end of them, Pietro always turned into a shy kid. "Because if so, then I don't know how this old bed will hold up.."

"I think I liked you better on the strong pills." Pietro mumbled with a pout, setting the wipes aside and unwrapping a clean bandage.

"Oh you love me all the time!" Clint laughed, holding his arms up a little so Pietro could wrap the bandages around his torso. The speedster's fingers would always linger that little bit longer as they passed by the archers pecs, and it never went un-noticed by those hawk eyes of his.

He was feeling good today!

That doesn't mean that the past while hasn't been a struggle. Because holy crap it really was. He was constantly sore, his leg was the only injury that didn't really hurt that much but that was because it was in a protective cast. His torso hurt with every little movement, his shoulders were beginning to ache with the crutches, and his head..

His head.

He can't describe what was going on in there.

He could think about them. He had all these amazing memories that would swim into focus every now and again, and he'd be fine with them. He was fine knowing they were coming to see him, looking forward to it each time. But when he saw their faces, when he got a glimpse of Tony's smirk or Banner's glasses, or when Steve would walk in and offer a handshake like the gentleman he is, something in his mind would switch and he'd suddenly feel threatened. He wouldn't know the people in front of him. They were strangers coming to attack, they were enemies, they were dangerous and his fight or flight instinct would kick in.

He would never choose flight. Flight was for cowards, or so he was brought up believing. So he'd have to swallow down whatever fear was there and get through an evening with them. It would get easier. By the end of it, he'd feel like they were his friends again. But they'd come back the next time and the same would happen. He couldn't talk to Pietro or Natasha about it, because they're worrying about him enough already. So Wanda was his confident. She would listen, she wouldn't interrupt or tell him he should do this or that. She would just offer a hand and let him spill until he feels alright enough to sleep. She was turning out to be a better friend than he could ever imagine she'd be.

Being on the farm helped. He was under strict instructions from, well, everyone not to do any of his usual work. The grass needed cutting, crops needed tending to before the season passed. That tractor really needed to be fixed, but that wasn't a main priority, just a little project they were letting him mess with. More than anything, the quiet serenity of the country side helped heal him faster than any drugs ever would. Being in such a place, away from the crazy business of city life, clears your mind of anything that plagues it. It's why he bought it after the Loki attack in the first place, to help him heal. Now it was doing it's job once more!

"There we are." Pietro smiled, patting Clint's chest gently when he was done tying off the bandages before moving from his hunkered position to leave.

Clint grabbed Pietro's wrist gently before his boyfriend could leave the room, standing from the bed a little to pull the speedster closer. Once off balance, Clint smirked and turned quickly so the pair fell onto the bed, Pietro on his back with Clint hovering over him. The archer placed his hands face down either side of Pietro head as he leaned in close, his nose touching off his partners. Pietro held such a shocked look that it made Clint smirk.

"Outside is bad." He whispered to Pietro, his lips then moving to trail kisses along his cheek before going along his jaw, knowing where his sensitive spots are from many nights of teasing. Pietro's hands, after recovering from whatever shock Clint sent his whole body into, were snaking up his back and towards his hair. "I like in here.."

"Easy Clint.." Pietro whispered, his breath hitching a little though when Barton nipped at his ear. "Need to wait until you feel better.. Working yourself up won't help."

"Get myself pretty worked up when I wake each morning to a shirtless you." He whispered through a pout, pulling back so his eyes would meet Pietro's. "How can someone so young be so damn built?"

"You're one to talk." Pietro laughed, his hands distracting Clint a little by playing with his hair. "Someone your age should not have abs like that.."

"Probably not.." Clint hummed, leaning down a little more to place just the lightest of kisses on the corner of Pietro's lips, smirking when the man beneath growled. "Gotta look good for my boyfriend though.."

His eyes were locked with Pietro's, but the slight upturn in them told Clint that the comment had him grinning.

"I take back my earlier comment.." Clint whispered then with a pout, one hand moving down to tug at the hem of Maximoff's shirt. "No shirt.. Never any shirts.."

"Barton, if you want something, take it.." Pietro growled, moving up off the bed a little to give Clint's lips a quick peck. "Teasing is just mean.."

"Clinton Francis Barton! If you want a lift to the store, get off Pietro and get out here!" Natasha's impatient voice broke the couple's moment, earning a shy smile from the archer and an embarrassed grin from the speedster. "We have company tonight instead of tomorrow so we need supplies!"

He couldn't help the response that last sentence earned. Slowly, his body tensed up, a frown spreading across his face as he thought about it. He only had Tony yesterday. He was hoping he'd have tonight off, just to relax with Pietro before having Steve tomorrow.

"Hey.." Pietro whispered with a frown, his hands coming up to gently cup Clint's cheeks. "Clint, it's ok. Everything will be ok. Something must have been on tomorrow that he could not get out of and so he's coming today, I don't know, all I know is it'll be ok."

His words were quick, his thumbs gently stroking Clint's cheeks. Something was flashing across his eyes aswell, he must have been surprised to hear it's today aswell, but it seemed to be more than that. He must be panicking if Pietro was like that with him. He was fine with Steve, more than the others. He would usually only talk when Clint wanted, he'd read some book by the fire and just be there until Clint was ok with it. But he really wasn't up to it today.

"Look, we can pack up the truck today." He whispered with a little smile, the rest of his face seeming concerned though. "We can pack it up with junk food and go to that lake you showed me last week. We can stay there for a while then you can come back relaxed and ready. Ok?"

That actually sounded pretty nice. A day with Pietro was really all he wanted, and that spot would be nice on a scorcher day like today.

"Ok.." Clint whispered back, his voice a little shaky, but it made Pietro smile.

The speedster did the one thing that always managed to relax his muscles after an attack like that; he gave Clint a toe curling kiss that sent shocks all through his body.

They kissed for a few minutes, until Clint was relaxed, until he could move his hands again. They kissed even when Pietro's hand slipped back into Clint's hair, his other going to the waistband of his trousers. They stopped when Clint bucked his hips forward a little as Pietro started to pull the trousers off him, though it wasn't Clint who stopped it. Clint was cursing in his mind when it was stopped!

Pietro pulled his head back with an embarrassed grin, chuckling a little awkwardly. It was too cute a sight for Clint, causing a smile to break out.

"When I'm better?" He whispered, knowing exactly why the kid stopped their fun. And, sure enough, Pietro nodded before giving his lips one last quick peck.

"When you're better." He confirmed, moving a little to get Clint off of him. Barton sat on the end of the bed, trying to calm himself down from the activity they just undertook, and from the thoughts of the one he really wanted to do. Pietro straightened out his clothes when he stood then smiled at Clint. "When that cast is off, and you don't look like you are about to pass out, you can have me in that bed all day. Right now though, I need to talk to Natasha. Get some rest, I can go to the store with her."

He didn't wait for Clint to reply, because he probably knew better than anyone that it would be a protest about sleeping. Clint stared at the closed door for a few minutes after Pietro left, a grin slipping on with each passing second.

He let out a happy sigh and fell back onto the bed, his arms spread out as he watched the ceiling.

He was too in love with that man..

* * *

"Clint?"

"Mhmm?"

"You're snoring." His eyes were closed, but the amusement to Pietro's voice meant he was smiling. He just sighed and nuzzled his hand, trying to find a comfy spot again while Pietro drove them to the lake.

"Was not." He mumbled, letting his eyes peek open to see if they were close.

So he might have been. But he was tired, ok!? It was after dinner, evening time, when he'd usually have his nap. But he wanted to head out to the lake like Pietro suggested for as long as possible before Steve came over, so he didn't want a nap!

"If you don't think you're able for this.." Pietro started softly, Clint sitting up straight then to let him know he was just fine. Pietro was starting to get a little american twang to some of his words. It was oddly cute.

"I'm fine, don't worry." He smiled, trying his best to be convincing. Pietro could see through him though. That fact scared Clint more than anything. Not only did he have Natasha being able to read his every lie, but now he had Pietro being able to do the same. That was a seriously dangerous combination!

"I always worry, you know that." Pietro whispered, a smile on his face when Clint finally looked at him.

It made his breath catch a little. The evening sun just made him look a thousand times more amazing, and Clint was never sure that was a possible thing. But yet, here he was, just wanting to stop the car and jump on the man driving.

He smiled to himself and shook his head of the thoughts, unbuckling his seat belt when they got close to the car park of the lake area.

"I do not think I ever thought of you as a pick up truck kind of guy." Pietro said with an amused smile once he opened Clint's door, helping the archer out since it was kind of a high truck to try get out of with a broken leg.

"The muscle car's back in New York." He replied with a laugh, figuring that's the kind of guy Pietro had him pegged as. It's the kind of guy everyone had him pegged as, and they weren't wrong.

"Do I get to take that for a drive?" Pietro asked with a grin, grabbing the basket they packed with some drinks and a blanket just to relax for a while.

"My god no!" He laughed out, hobbling his way over to the trail. It wasn't a long walk, only a minute or two around the corner, so he'd be fine. "That thing is my baby. Not even Nat's allowed drive it!"

Pietro gave a quiet chuckle as way of a reply, his hand resting gently on Clint's lower back as they made their way along. A silence fell between them, but that was fine by Clint. They didn't really need to talk much.

Once they found a nice spot by the lake, Clint stood staring out at the water with a smile as Pietro set out the blanket. It was beautiful here. The first time he brought Pietro here was actually by accident. He had a bad nightmare early in the morning and just got out of the bed and hobbled his way. He didn't realise that he was coming in this direction, or that Pietro was following. He only noticed both when he actually got to the lake. That morning, they sat on the bank and watched the sun rise. That was on the opposite bank though, so the fact that Pietro chose this spot meant they were now going to watch the sun set.

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled softly when he saw Pietro already lying on the blanket. He had it angled on the bank so they could lie down and still be able to see the sun setting infront of them. He hobbled the few steps and awkwardly moved to lie next to his boyfriend, his fingers instantly interlocking with Pietro's as they lay shoulder to shoulder.

The sight was perfect. As the sun set, it sent beautiful streaks of red and orange across the lake, the shimmering surface reflecting the rays up and out in to the forest area behind them.

"I could get used to this." Pietro whispered from his side after about a half hour. Clint had to agree.

The archer smiled to himself at the thought of the two of them spending more time here, more time at the farm house. He didn't think he knew of a time he wanted this sort of life before Pietro came into the mix. He brought their joined hands up to place a soft kiss on Pietro's knuckles.

"We might be here for a while yet.." he whispered, watching as the sun slowly dipped behind the horizon. "We can do this a few more times before we have to go back to our normal lives."

"Do you want to..?" Pietro asked, a cautious tone being held. Clint smiled and nodded, letting their hands rest gently on his stomach.

"You don't want to watch sunsets with me?" He chuckled, rolling his head to look at Pietro. His smile slowly faded when he noticed a frown cross his boyfriend's face.

"I mean do you want to go back to your normal life?" Pietro said so softly that Clint struggled to pick it up.

He sighed softly and shrugged, looking back at the view then.

"It's just that.. This was the first mission back and you nearly died.." Pietro continued, giving Clint a genuine smile.

"I didn't nearly die, kid." He said through a slight chuckle, the last rays of light giving way to a few stars. "It was a set back. It's still a set back. But I love what I do.."

"Clint.. If something were to happen.." Pietro started, and when Clint turned his head he saw his love watching him with the most concerned eyes he's ever witnessed in his life.

He smiled a little sadly and leaned across a little more, giving Pietro's lips a soft, loving kiss before letting his forehead rest gently against his.

"Then I'll get over that too.." He whispered, trying to ease the speedster's worries. "I know it hasn't been easy for you. But this is my life, Pietro.. And you're a part of it now weather you like it or not."

"Oh I definitely hate it.." He said with a slight grin, causing Clint to roll his eyes. He then moved back and held his arm out, Pietro quite happily taking the invitation by turning on his side and cuddling up to Clint, his ear resting over the archers heart.

"You need to work on your sarcastic tone." Clint said through a slight chuckle, giving him a soft kiss on the top of his head before looking up at the stars.

Silence fell between them once more. This was good. Clint finally felt human, finally felt right. He felt like this was where he was supposed to be, here watching the stars as the small waves on the lake lulled the couple into a peaceful state of mind.

He had to count all the lucky stars in the sky at that moment for giving him the chance to experience this.

* * *

"Hang on for a second."

Clint turned with an eyebrow raised at Pietro's words, just about able to make out the speedster's features in the dark of night. They stayed in that peaceful spot until they could no longer see the hand infront of their face, counting stars, talking about nothing in particular, just being in each others company. It was perfect, and it had a smile plastered on Clint's face that he just couldn't shake.

Now though, he was halfway up the decking steps, watching as Pietro approached with an uneasy look on his face.

Something was wrong.

"You doing ok?" He asked once closer to the archer, Clint giving a nod as answer.

"I'm fine, Pietro. I'm actually looking forward to seeing Steve now!" He smiled, patting Pietro's cheek gently before turning again to head to the door.

He was blocked by Pietro who stood running the back of his neck awkwardly. Yep, something was wrong! He wasn't just worried about a bad reaction to Steve.

"Just.." He started, sighing then when he obviously couldn't find the words he needed. "If it's too much, let me know. We can come out here for a while."

"I'm fine Pietro." He laughed, giving him a quick little kiss before hobbling into the house. He was fine with Steve! Steve was the one he looked forward to seeing on the good days!

There were alot more voices though.

When he made his way through the hall and into the little sitting room, there were alot more people than just Steve.

It had his mind slipping into the panic mode at an alarmingly quick rate.

The whole team were there.

Natasha and Wanda weren't right now, but he could hear them moving around the kitchen. But the five others, Steve, Sam, Tony, Pepper, and Bruce, were all sitting around the area. Pepper was the only one on one of the sofa's, the others all using kitchen chairs since he only had two three seater's.

Tony laughed at something, the others snickering, and it had Clint freezing in spot, his eyes wide.

They were planning to get him. They were planning the most horrible way to take him out and laughing about it. Or maybe they already took out Natasha and were joking about how it happened. Maybe that wasn't her moving around the kitchen right now.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, Pietro quickly coming into his line of vision though with both hands firmly gripping Clint's shoulders. The room had gotten way too quiet, they must have noticed him.

They were getting ready to attack.

"Clint.. It's ok." Pietro said softly, a commanding edge to his voice though. "It's safe, you're safe. You trust me, right?"

 _Do you trust him?_

 _It's Pietro, of course you do.._

Pietro knew about this. That's why he was so weird outside. He didn't want to tell Clint otherwise he wouldn't want to come into the house.

 _He was planning with them. He was siding with them. They all were._

 _No._

 _Not Pietro._

 _Pietro would never harm you. Pietro would help._

 _But he knew.. He brought them here.. He brought the ones who are trying to kill you right into your home.._

He groaned a little and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the internal battle going on in his mind right now.

He didn't realise he was being led away somewhere until he heard Natasha's worried voice, the feeling of being place on a chair following then.

"Clint..?" Natasha asked softly, Pietro must be leaving her to do the explaining. "Open your eyes for a second. I'm not that ugly."

He smiled just the slightest, despite the panic, despite everything. He always called her ugly or would tell her she looked like hell when he was the one injured. It was a running ritual with them now to let the other know everything's fine.

He opened his eyes and was met with Natasha hunkered down infront of him, worried eyes watching his every move.

"I can't.." He whispered with a shake of his head, knowing she'd understand what he was getting at.

"We're just trying a new tactic." She said softly, patting his knee gently as a little reassurance. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you. But I was afraid you wouldn't come out of your room if you knew."

She knew him way too well..

"What are we trying then..?" He asked through a whisper, his voice a little shaky. He was still convinced they were getting ready to attack him out there, but that voice was slowly slipping back into the shadows where it came from.

"We're making memories." She smiled. She must be glad he was giving it a go. But he saw no way out of it really. "The past while we've been trying to repair old ones. So we're making new good memories while trying to repair the old. We have a movie night, lots of pizza, lots of junk food."

Damn, that actually sounded good..

He nodded a little, letting her know that the plan was fine with him.

He looked up when a hand was on his shoulder again, meeting the smiling faces of the two twins. These three would protect him. He'd be fine.

He hobbled back out to the sitting area, ignoring the voice this time though, because while he was hobbling with one crutch, his other hand held Pietro's firmly.

If Pietro was there, it would all be fine.

Things started slowly. They were tentative with him. And he seriously appreciated that.

Stark apparently had the idea to watch some movies that Steve hasn't seen yet. Because that list is roughly three miles long. So they were staring with the Back to the Future trilogy. Why? Because Tony spent about twenty minutes laughing at how they were movies just made for Steve!

Half way through the first movie, he smiled at them teasing Steve.

Near the end, he was talking to them, joking about stupid things in their lives right now, like how Pepper caught Tony and Banner cuddled up on the sofa one night, or how Steve finally went on a date with Sharon, and how she kicked some guys ass for trying to dance with her. He laughed along at the stories, feeling more and more comfortable with each one.

And by the start of the second, it was like they were family again.

He never let go of Pietro's hand the whole time, and Pietro never left his side on the sofa. Natasha was sitting on the other side of him. His protective little duo doing all they could to make sure he felt ok, and he loved them for it.

He couldn't tell you when he fell asleep, but it shocked him later on to know. The fact that this little night had made him comfortable enough to fall asleep around the team, around the people that he was still convinced were trying to murder him and Natasha, meant that something worked to make him trust them again.

It was still a long road, but he'd get there.

He remembered placing his head on Pietro's shoulder at one point, and finding it difficult to open his eyes after a while, but didn't think he'd fall asleep. He only realised he did when, and one point, he peeked his eyes open and was looking at the underside of his boyfriends jaw while he carried him upstairs bridal style.

There was a small smile on Pietro's lips, and he kind of wanted to ask what made him happy for future reference. But, instead, he just closed his eyes again and nuzzled against his chest.

The feel of his soft mattress was soon present on his back, followed by the bed sheet being placed over him and a soft kiss being placed on his forehead.

"Goodnight love.." Pietro whispered, and something tugged on Barton's heart knowing the speedster was planning on leaving.

"Pietro?" He called softly, not opening his eyes, but he could hear the other male stop moving in the room.

"What is it, Clint?" He replied just as softly, a concerned edge to his tone.

Clint simply lifted the side of the blanket that Pietro just covered him in.

"You can stay, if you want.." He said after a moment or two, not wanting to sound needy. But he slept better with Pietro there, he knew he did. Those nights he'd come in to comfort Clint after a nightmare, he'd sleep like a baby. "Unless you wanna go back to the team.."

He peeked his eyes open to see the figure of Pietro shuffle across the room, crossing to the other side of the bed. In the low light, it was difficult to make out his features, but when he climbed into the other side of the bed and held his arm out, Clint could see the grin on his face.

"I don't think words from your mouth have ever made me happier." He simply said, giving Clint a little grin as he moved over to cuddle up to his boyfriend, head resting on his chest with his arm draped across his stomach. His eyes slipped closed at once, feeling completely and totally relaxed for the first time in a long time.

He felt a kiss being place ontop of his head as sleep drew closer, followed by four whispered words that made his heart stop. "I love you, Clint.."

They joked about it, saying the other loved them when they did something to annoy them. But, as far as he could remember, unless it happened while he was drugged up, they never said that to eachother.

Yet, he found that he didn't mind.

He didn't mind that this was the first time hearing those words. He couldn't care less that he only guessed at the feelings Pietro had, and never knew them fully.

Pietro loved him.

He didn't have to say it. He showed it every day. He had been a god send while Clint was recovering. He looked after him, changed his bandages, made sure he was in as little pain as possible, making sure he ate, being absolutely positive he was ok with the team, and made him smile.

All those little things showed love more than three little words ever could.

As sleep took him, he decided he really did love loving someone. All his life he thought he'd hate it, for a while he did hate it, not so much anymore.

Probably no surprise to everyone except Clint that it worked out this way.

He just loved the feeling it gave him each time Pietro looked at him. He loved the fire that runs through his system when they kiss, loved waking up next to him, loved making him smile, making him laugh, making him blush with his idiotic attempts at teasing or flirting.

He loved Pietro.

He loved loving Pietro.

He whispered his response just as sleep took him, knowing he'd wake to a shit eating grin of the speedster for it, but he didn't care.

"Love you too, Pietro.."

 _'Let's be honest, kid.'_ He thought to himself, sleep finally claiming him. ' _Us falling in love? We probably saw that coming.'_


End file.
